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THE 
UNFADING LIGHT 



BY 



CAROLINE DAVENPORT SWAN 




BOSTON 
SHERMAN, FRENCH &' COMPANY 

1911 



<:> 



Copyright, 19 10 
Sherman, French & Company 



CCI.A2?8948 






TO 
THE MEMORY OF 

MY MOTHER 



CONTENTS 



LUCE ORIENTE 








Page 


THE EARTHLY SHEPHERD . . . . 1 


TE DEUM 






3 


A MORNING BLESSING . 






5 


FIRS BY A RAILWAY 






7 


THE SACRED HEART 






10 


GETHSEMANE .... 






11 


THE MARTYRS OF COMPEIGNE 






13 


THE RANGE OF MEEKNESS . 






15 


MORNING 






16 


THE WINDS OF GOD 






17 


SUNRISE IN JUNE ... 






19 


ON THE KENNEBEC . 






20 


MONOTONES .... 






23 


THE YOUTH OF SAINT PATRICK 






27 


A SERAPH'S SONG . 






28 


HEIGHTS AND DEEPS 






29 


THE VESPER CHIMES 






30 


OUR RESTING-PLACE 






32 


A GOD OF JUDGMENT . 






34 


A NOCTURNE .... 






35 


THE YEARS .... 






36 


THROUGH THE SHADOWS 






37 


EARLY MASS .... 






39 


THE SOUL'S LESSON 






40 


IN THY POWER 






41 


VESPERS IN NEW YORK 






42 


THE HARVEST OF SOULS 






43 


THE VOICE OF GOD 






45 


CHRISTUS CONSOLATOR 






47 



SONNETS 

ILLUMINATION 

THE GIFT OF PEACE 

COMFORTED OF GOD 

ACCEPTANCE 

THE MISSION FIELD 

A SOUL'S AWAKENING 

NATURE'S ANTIPHON 

IN THE VALLEY 

WALKING IN DARKNESS 

THE GREAT GLORY 

TWO SOULS 

THE ANCIENT ANSWER 

POVERTY 

THE SHEPHERD'S CALL 

IN PRAISE OF WISDOM 

DEVOTION . 

THE VESPER CANTICLE 

THE DARK COLEUS 

MAY AND THE TOILER 

LOWLINESS 

THE SPLENDOR OF JOY 

VIRGO AMABILIS 

THE WHITE CHOIR 

SUPREMACY 

REBUKE 

TWO GLORIES . 

THE FEAST OF ALL SAINTS 

A WIDOWED SOUL . 

SWEETER THAN ALL 

CHRISTMAS-TIDE 

THE ADVENT OF PEACE 
A CHRISTMAS GLORIA 
A STAR-SONG 
LABOR AND CAPITAL 
THE COMING SNOW 



Page 
51 
52 
53 
54 
55 
56 
57 
58 
59 
60 
61 
62 
63 
64 
65 
66 
67 
68 
69 
70 
71 
72 
73 
74 
75 
76 
77 
78 
79 



83 
85 
87 



Page 

THE BELLS OF YULE 90 

TWO TRAVELLERS 91 

THE ROSE'S HEART 99 

A HERALD'S CALL 94 

THE FAMILY OF GOD 96 

THE COMING OF THE PRINCE ... 99 

CHRISTMAS EVE 101 

THE CHILDREN OF THE KINGDOM . 102 

DECEMBER PENITENCE 104 

THE COUNCILS OF GOD 106 

ANGELS OF CHARITY 108 

LOVE'S MIRACLE Ill 

THE ROYAL BABE 112 

SEA-DRIFT 

AMONG THE SEDGES 115 

CONTROLLED OF GOD 116 

THE BREAKERS AT MONHEGAN . 117 

TRANQUILLITY . 119 

THE VEILING MISTS 120 

THE CLASP OF HEAVEN .... 121 

SEA-FOGS 122 

THE SALT MARSHES 123 

MONHEGAN LIGHT 124 

SEA-GRASSES 125 

SUN AND MIST 127 

EASTER-TIDE 

VITA NUOVA 131 

THE MUSIC OF MARCH 132 

SONG OF SAINT MARY MAGDALEN . 133 

THE SKIES OF LENT 135 

THE EASTER MOON 136 

BELLS OF SORROW 137 

LIFE'S FLOWERS 138 

PALMS OF EASTER 139 

THE SOUL'S BLOSSOMING .... 141 











Page 


THE LIGHT OF THE LORD .... 142 


FROM SHADE TO SUN 143 


IN ECCLESIA 144 


THE EASTER GLORY 146 


BIRD-FLIGHTS 


THE SOUL'S WINTER 149 


THE HOLY HOURS . 








150 


BLOOM AND SKY 








152 


RENUNCIATION . 








153 


THE SOUL'S WITHDRAWAL 








155 


FROM OUT THE BLUE . 








156 


THE BLESSED END . 








158 


THE VOICE OF HEAVEN 








159 


BLOOM OF LILIES . 








161 


A MOSS BASKET 








162 


OCTOBER'S TOAST . 








163 


CHIAROSCURO . 








165 


A PREFERENCE . 








166 


IN DEWY GLADES . 








167 


A MIDSUMMER SCENE . 








168 


THE UNSEEN LOVE 








170 


THE UNFADING LIGHT . 








171 



LUCE ORIENTE 



THE EARTHLY SHEPHERD 

I SEE One coming across the wold, 

My gracious Lord! 
Whiter than snow is He — is He! 
And tender the gaze that He bends on me. 

O blest reward 
For all my labor, for all my pain. 
To feel I dwell in His Heart again ! 

How shall I welcome my gracious Lord 

Now He is here? 
Sudden a-tremble, passionate, dim. 
The tear-stained face that I turn to Him 

In anxious fear. 
He proffers pardon. O joy divine! 
Bliss of forgiveness ! His love is mine. 

" What can I do for Thee, Lord? My Lord ! " 

His word is nigh: 
" Gather my sheep and the lambs a-cold. 
Luring them back to the blessed Fold! 

Quick ! ere they die. 
They have wandered far in the snow and 

rain; 
I hear their moaning, I feel their pain ! " 

Over the crags and the pathless plain 

They softly come. 
Breathless and blissful, I lead them on, — 
For love, it is mighty to rest upon ! — 

In silence dumb; 

[1] 



Thine is the Voice which they love and know ; 
I only guide them through sleet and snow. 

Ever Thy tenderness thrills the gloom 

With life and cheer. 
Help us and welcome us, Lord of the Fold! 
Show us Thy radiant City of Gold, 

Swung close a-near ! 
Windless, unruffled. Thy luminous sea, 
Ever reflecting the rose-warmth of Thee. 



[S] 



TE DEUM 

On the high uplifted meadows where eter- 
nal dews are sweet, 

And scented lilies make a blaze of whiteness 
at their feet, 

They are walking in the glory of their in- 
finite reward, 

A strange, illumined multitude. Thy blessed 
Saints, O Lord! 

And we yearn to see their splendor, though 

our stricken hearts are sore; 
Their pleading — in our sinfulness, we need 

it more and more ! 
Show us the mystic meadows. Lord! Show 

us the winged throng! 
For we may not pierce the glory, we cannot 

hear the song. 

Our eyes with tears are welling, our anthems 

faint and fall 
Down from the blue to us again; we scarce 

look up at all. 
The bells of earth ring tremulous across the 

yellowing sward. 
Thy Saints among the seraphim — show us 

Thy Saints, O Lord ! 



[3] 



The shimmer of their shining wings would 

glorify our way; 
A glimpse of Paradise would be a Feast for 

us today ! 
Fain would we walk in whiteness, with love 

in full accord! 
" O number us," we pray again, " among Thy 

Saints, O Lord ! " 

The grand Te Deum rises from our autumn- 
shadowed shrines ; 

Our singing bears a hopefulness that quiv- 
ers as it shines. 

O choir Seraphic, strike for us this ancient 
golden chord, 

" May these be numbered with Thy Saints, O 
Ever-Pitying Lord ! " 



[4] 



A MORNING BLESSING 

Soft as the dewy shine, 

Holy and sweet, 
Love, in its blessed sign. 

Pardon complete. 
Gently it f alleth 

On tear-laden eyes ; 
Daily it calleth, 

" Mortal, arise ! 

Ever thy future shines 

White as the day; 
Ever my grace refines 

Sin-dross away. 
Heaven discloses 

Deeps glory-bright; 
Wake, like the roses ! 

Wake to the light ! 

Silent, the silver dew; 

Silent, my grace, 
Daily distilled anew. 

Falling apace. 
Sinner, Omnipotence 

Aids thee within, — 
Holy, thy confidence ; 

Crush out thy sin! 

Pardon is over thee, 
Calm as the blue; 

[5] 



Trust in my victory, 

Death-won and true. 

Rest, in thy meekness! 
Bendeth above. 

Over thy weakness 
Infinite Love. 

Thus, in all lowliness 

Daily increase; 
Growing in holiness, 

Following peace. 
Love-light, brimming over 

While angels adore, 
Hover and cover 

Thy heart evermore." 



[6] 



FIRS BY A RAILWAY 

A WHISTLE ! mad defiance in its shriek ! 
What giant, bent on sacrilegious freak, 
Has power to rend the silences divine 
Beneath these spires of Nature's forest 

shrine ? 
None but the giant force of life to-day. 
The rushing power of steam ; its mighty play 
The symbol of our strange, mechanic age, 
With things material for its heritage! 

The woodman's crashing axe has ploughed 

its way 
Through the green coverts where the par- 
tridge lay; 
The firs and pines have fallen 'neath its 

stroke ; 
The iron rails are laid; the magic word is 

spoke. 
Broken the holy spell, the silent charm; 
The screaming engine ends the woodland 

calm. 
The beauty of those sweet cathedral spires 
Covered with snow, or red in sunset fires, 
Pointing to heaven, unwearied, year by year. 
Till every golden star seemed drawing near. 
Is swept away, relentless, by the march, 
Through the green home of pine and feath- 
ered larch. 
Of iron-clad invaders from afar. 
Potent, audacious, mad for open war. 

[7] 



The bitter lesson, lying all too plain, 
Crushes my soul with sudden helpless pain. 
" Can it be thus? " I ask. " Does life unfold 
And level downward to an age of gold? 
Are the swift trains of stronger moderm 

thought 
To bring the early love and faith to naught? 
Are the best voices of the soul to cease? 
Its yearnings for a white celestial peace. 
Its aspirations toward the things above. 
Its thought of Him whose blessed name is 

Love — 
Are these to cease — hewn down and swept 

away 
By the strange sceptic forces of our day? 
Can faithless men destroy what faith has 

done ? 
Can doubt, the shadow, shut out God's fair 

sun? 
Are new-found truths to supersede the old.' 
Is nothing left but iron, steam, and gold? " 

A fellow-traveller caught the inference, too, 
And gave it battle. " No ; it is not true," 
Quoth he, " that any power at all is given 
To thought which pointeth not to God in 

heaven ; 
For mind is more than matter, and the less 
Cannot contain the greater. All the stress 



[8] 



Of human madness or of Satan's might 
Can never pluck a single jewel's light 
From yon fair walls, the golden city round, 
Or mar her beauty as she sits encrowned! 
And Truth is one ; at variance with herself 
She cannot be, nor bought with dross and 

pelf. 
The truth of Eden still is truth to-day, 
Whate'er the modern scientist may say; 
The changes of the ages mould its form; 
Its substance is the same in calm and storm ; 
The star-like verities our touch disdain; 
Of God, in God, supernally they reign ! 

" Howe'er in madness we may sweep away, 
Each finger lifted in our twilight gray, 
Each spire of fir, each dim, cathedral stone, 
Saying, in mercy, to the traveller lone, 
' This is the way ; come hither ; walk therein ! ' 
No change is wrought by our audacious sin. 
The road will still remain ; the same old way 
Through starlight cold or brilliancies of day, 
Still, as of old, by saints and martyrs trod, 
Still leading to the paradise of God." 

A silence; then from out the forest deep 
Into my soul an echo seems to creep; 
A far-off voice, a warning voice that saith 
In gentle blame: "O ye of little faith! 
Sweep us away, to-morrow, if ye will: 
The blue to which we point abideth still ! " 

[9] 



THE SACRED HEART 

Pure as tenderest lines of light 
In the East, ere dawn is bright, 
Soft and still as seraph's flight. 
Our Jesus draweth near. 

Silent — lest we wound Him more — 
Tender, whispering o'er and o'er. 
Heart of Love! our souls outpour 
Responsive bloom and cheer. 



[10] 



GETHSEMANE 

A GOLDEN chain, O Lord, 

A chain of woe. 
Ever in sweet accord 

Swings to and fro. 
One end is ours, to cling 

Tearful, thereto ; — 
Through our hearts' quivering, 

Lord, hold us true! 

Welded the other end 

Straight to Thy throne ; — 
Softly Thy love doth bend 

Over Thine own! 
Ever Thy cup they drink. 

Eager to be 
Tightening each shining link 

Leading to Thee. 

Sharing Thine inner bliss, 

Sea-depths of peace. 
Under the waves that hiss 

Softly increase. 
Deeper thy plummet goes. 

Glittering free; 
Closer our clinging grows. 

Life-line, to thee. 

Up to Thy bleeding Heart 
Draw us thereby ! 



Through every sting and smart 

Say, " It is I ! " 
Jesu, we beg of Thee, 

Grieving alone, 
In our Gethsemane 

Comfort Thine own! 

Show us our sorrow-chain 

Fastened secure ! 
Each tiny spirit-gain 

Gently made sure. 
Love, hold us every hour, 

Love, all aglow! 
Thee and Thy touch of power, 

Jesu, we know! 



[12] 



THE MARTYRS OF COMPEIGNE 

Behold, a glory of the sun, 

Another, of the moon ; 
Another, of the stars, if won, 

A grand celestial boon. 
That splendor of sun-rays is hers, 

Sweet Mother of our Lord, 
Whose changeless peace no shadow blurs, 

With Him in full accord. 

What is the glory of the sun, 

O student of the Word.? 
Its roseate strands, of glory spun. 

Hast thou or seen or heard? 
Hast watched the trembling of the dawn 

Or felt the sunset pour 
Its scarlet flood o'er vale and lawn. 

Earth kneeling to adore .'^ 

And what the glory of the moon. 

Waxing or waning cold.? 
White as a rose in heat of noon 

Or soft as liquid gold. 
Hast seen her quivering whiteness fall 

On dewy, daisied fields.? 
Or, mournfully, on crosses tall 

Where Death his sceptre wields.? 

This shadowed glory, wrung from tears. 
The blessed Martyrs wear; 

[13] 



Its silvery light — so sweet ! — endears 

Their presence everywhere. 
We love to know their noble deeds; 

We see their waving palms ! 
Yea, Lord ! — amid our sordid needs 

We hear their blessed psalms ! 

We saw them meekly bow beneath 

A frenzied might of wrong; 
The scaffold and the blasted heath 

Have waked Earth's saddest song. 
"Now, Heaven hath heard !" to-day we cry ; 

" Victorious, ye reign ! 
Teach us your Hymn of Praise on high, 

O Martyrs of Compeigne ! " 

No glory ours of moon or sun; 

We follow from afar, — 
Our best reward, when all is done. 

But as the faintest star. 
Yet give us grace to struggle on. 

Dear Lord, where they have striven. 
Thy Captaincy, to lean upon. 

Our one foregleam of Heaven. 



[14] 



THE RANGE OF MEEKNESS 

A SAGE outspake in conscious pride, 

" The mind of man, like the world, is wide ; 

Mighty to measure this earthly ball, 

Whose finite atoms may be our all. 

O science, far-reaching, we plunge with thee 

Into the depths of the deepest sea ! " 

Flashed out Saint Michael, a holy flame. 
Brushing him by as he downward came; 
Brought, swift as light, by the potent tears 
Of a woman crowned with the grace of years, 
Whose mere petition availed to span 
The awful gulf between God and man. 

" Life, in its great profound, defies 
Thy power," the Prince Archangel cries ; 
"O Son of man, wouldst search out Him 
Whose silences baffle our cherubim? 
The woman's upsoaring outstrippeth thine. 
Scaling, in meekness, the Throne divine." 



[15] 



MORNING 

Through the white vapors of the valley lands 
A rosiness comes falling faintly down; 

The gray old sea, amid his silver sands, 
Softly awaits a pearl and ruby crown ! 

New mystic prescience the silence fills. 

With the Divine all nature, pulsing, thrills. 

The Sun-God flames along th' exultant sky, 
And earth uphfts her weary, saddened face 

To catch the radiance sweeping swiftly by, 
To share the blessing and partake the grace: 

And lo ! that grace meets every finest need. 

Gilding the tip of every wind-blown reed. 

No unknown mound where love lies buried deep, 
No grave, snow-crowned, with Passion-cross 
of white. 

No pierced soul, too sorrow-crushed to weep, 
But shares its gold of Resurrection light. 

O song-sweet morning of our sober days, 

Show us the mightier Dawn, the endless praise! 



[16] 



THE WINDS OF GOD 

O Lord, Thou art our covert sure 

From the winds that blow! 
From out Thy heaven high and pure 

They come and go; 
Thou sendest every one, I trow; 
Thy thoughts are wise, Thy grace I know. 

The west wind bloweth soft and fair. 

And the suns they shine. 
Go sing thy songs in the scented air, 

O soul of mine! 
And know His heartfelt love for thee 
Who sent such breezes o'er thy sea ! 

The north wind sweepeth, swift and chill, 

Down ebbing tides 
From icy lands, where Hope is still 

And Death abides. 
Our very prayers are hushed and low, 
And all is dark ! The North winds blow ! 

O South wind, hot with pain and drought. 

We faint and tire. 
When the scarlet lily flashes out 

Its thought of fire! 
When life is dry and dust our way. 
Dear Lord, for riper fruit we pray. 



[17] 



Within the hollow of thy hand 

From the winds that blow 
We fain would hide on the weary strand, 

Like lilies low ! 
Calm on the waters they gleam and glow, 
Ever sweet, though the storm-wind blow. 



[18] 



SUNRISE IN JUNE 

Through the faint glimmer of the shadow- 
lands, 
Across the silver meadows dank with rain, 
A far, fine line of light illumes the plain. 
It wakes the world, its sudden sway expands, 
The Sun-God flames adown th' exultant sands 
And woe and doubt and misery are slain: 
His loving touch is on our mounds of pain 
And none his blaze ineffable withstands. 
The birds the rapturous miracle proclaim 
In their green palaces! The brilliant bees 
Sip nectar from the chalices of June! 
Sweet princess of the year! Her spirit's flame 
Brightens our lives to kindred rhapsodies 
And with the lark we sing her heaven-set 
tune. 



191 



ON THE KENNEBEC 

I 

AT NIGHT 

Thy blue ice-floor no longer sleeps alone 
Beneath the moon, O pearly Kennebec! 
For eager ice-men mark out every speck 
Of pure, unsullied surface for their own. 
Intense their effort; blaze of torches, blown 
To scarlet flaming, darkest nights bedeck 
With fiery gems, lest accidental check 
Should end their toil, their hope of gain 

o'erthrown. 
Men labor thus for gold, nor once complain, 
Though pain be theirs and darkly frozen 
hours ; 
Reward and dawn come swiftly, in a rain 

Of rose-lit glory, to revive their powers. 
Reward and dawn — O Christian men, shall 

we 
Have less reward of faith? less hope of 
Dawn to be? 

II 

THE ICE-CUTTERS 

Morn sees the river toilers at their task. 
Swarming adown its pavement pearly 

white. 
Moiling in frozen fierceness. At the sight 

I marvel. " Is it all worth while? " I ask, 

[20] 



" This toil intense? Say, doth it merely mask 

A money greed? Or is it, viewed aright, 

Noble as labor ought to be and bright 

Like angels' service ? " — He whose life doth 

bask 
In Fortune's sun will find his task the same; 
He stores his intellect, as these each square 
Of icy crystal. Lucent be thy thought. 
Ice-clear, O student! Thine ulterior aim 
Is toward a royal fleet, when Death shall 

bear 
Seaward thine all, — not thither swept for 
naught. 



[21] 



MONOTONES 

A SOUND of music beats upon mine ear 
Gravely re-iterant, — though each note fall, 
A dainty snow-flake, mellow-voiced and true, 
From finger-tips of softer daintiness. 
Now, winged diamonds chase their eerie 

flight, 
In fiery flashes, o'er a keyboard pale, 
Chequered like life, accented into black 
Throughout its sad mosaic. White-rose fair 
The face intent upon the phantom course 
Of that far-sailing music. How may one 
Whose gentle girlhood knoweth naught of 

pain 
Pierce the composer's quivering mystery 
Whereby he scales the battlements of 

Heaven ? 
We ask too much of pupils. Art and Song 
Have deeps that sages fail to penetrate. — 
So this sweet maid, piano-puzzled, dreams ; — 
Perplexities bedim her happy eyes 
As silver trills shine out, audacious sweet, 
At variance with the awsome tones that lie 
So sad beneath their light intricacies. 
Still she plays on ; and evermore the bass 
Conquers her brilliant treble. Hollow sounds 
Invade this petty round of space and time 
From out the depthless, past eternities. 
Impatient fingers still each haunted key; 

[22] 



Swift spectres crouch away, their kingship 

gone. 
" I weary of these monotones," she cries, 
" Ever-recurrent, pitiless, severe. 
No wavering of tremulant desire, 
Nothing of human love or hate can stir 
Their even poise, cold, passionless and grand, 
God-like, in their profound serenity." 
Then, eager to shake off the brooding 

thought. 
She led me forth across wide, silver fields. 
Where the great Angel of the Northern 

snows 
Had swept the earth with tender, trailing 

wings. 
Making her dust and ashes consecrate 
To a soft showing-forth of things divine. 
O'er Nature's color-music one clear sound 
Rang dominant, subduing all the rest, 
A calm monotony celestial white. 
While, overhead, its counterpart was blue. 
Yet ever my companion turned away, 
Yearning for April skies and springing buds 
Caprices fluctuant, fierce sunny gleams 
That dance among the daisies. O'er her 

face 
A shadow crept of fitful discontent, 
A pallid gloom of subtle quick unrest. 
" Nature grows old and wearisome ! " she 

moaned, 
^' Is there no end to her monotonies ? " 

[23] 



And still I made no answer. Why should I 
Forestall the teaching of the solemn years, 
Severe preceptors, yet benevolent, 
Laying soft hands on every bright young 

head 
In silvery benediction? 

None the less 
A-weary of earth-changes, myriad-voiced, 
Resolving into pain, took I delight 
In these, her sounds immortal, glad to feel 
The blessedness of utter rest thereon. 
The key-stone of that sapphire arch above 
Sufficeth all below: supremest heaven 
Can give us naught beside the sum of all, 
These endless verities of th' unending 

Throne. 
Bright as the snow, sweet as the blue they 

lay 
Upon my spirit, calm as thought that dwells 
Placid, without beginning, without end 
In the great mind Eternal. 

Who can fail 
To lean on these? And what, indeed, of 

Earth's 
Mere petty accidents can wrest him thence? 
" O Lord !" I cried, " In thy great pity, hear ! 
Give me but these! All else let others take; 
All brilliancies of changing suns and moons, 
All tidal ebb and flow, all vividness 
Of leaping flame, — whose end is by and by 
In smouldering ashes, — bursts of throbbing 

bells 

[24] 



And passion-fired heart-beats, transient 

gleams 
Of elfin sweetness darting thro' the gloom 
And songs more sad than silence. Things of 

sense 
Time has in cognizance. O Thou supreme, 
Amid Earth's darkened music leave for me 
That strong, grave monotone, that still up- 
holds 
My weakness with its outstretched arm of 

might 
And to my quivering eye revealeth Thee ! " 

" The Earth herself is old and wearisome !" 
True, very true, O maiden young and fair. — 
'Tis well thou dost not apprehend the scope, 
The sad significance, of words like these. 
Delusions, strange mutations Earth has 

known 
Since first she swung adrift and sailed away 
From Eden's blessed anchorage. How oft 
Her poor, soul-famished crew have had to 

drink 
Dank water, bitter as the salt sea brine ! 
Or, pressed full sore, to eat as bitter food. 
Turning to stone, delusive, in their grasp. 
Or, Midas-like, to gold that bears a curse. 
O Earth, thy changes bring thee little good 
And thy New World reverberates the Old ! 
Thy empires shrink away; thy purple falls 
Into base clutches of the multitude; 

[26] 



Thy battle-fields burn red; white, crowded 

tombs 
Cry out for space, unheeded ; naught remains 
Immutable, of old-time splendor, save 
The blood-bought Kingship which is none of 

Thine ! 
O Earth, grown old and weary, wilt thou 

learn 
In these, thy latter days, to set aside 
These unbenign mutations? Thus, to prize 
Thy tokens of the Everlasting One 
Whose paths illumine every sunless deep, 
Each Gloria proclaiming the Divine, 
Each monotone of His infinity. 

O Lord, the Earth is old; her end draws 

nigh 
As Thou hast said. Yet, in that day may we, 
Her re-arisen children, hear again 
The wondrous tones so blindly loved below, — 
Intensified, refulgent, clear as flame. 
In fires of Love supernal passioned deep, 
The fundamental bass of every strain 
Thy universe re-echoes ! Yea, in truth 
Eternity itself will only meet 
Our souls' expectance — for its ocean sweep, 
Swinging incessant, scantly voiceth Thee! 
Hail, sound eterne, in royal, rhythmic round I 
Hail, plane irradiant! Monotone of gold! 



[26] 



THE YOUTH OF ST. PATRICK 

In the heart of the child God's full sunrise, 
aflame. 
Lies warm, all aglow with its visionings fair, 
O'erflooding our valleys of sorrow and shame 
With strange, scarlet glory that banishes 
care. 

And the prayer of the child and its faith in the 
Lord, 

Its force of eternal, earth-conquering love 
Find answer in Heaven, where angels applaud 

Its saintliness, burning like Mary's above. 



[27] 



A SERAPH'S SONG 

Out of heaven swept an angel 

Out of the divine embrace ; 
Snowy-plumed, he sang, enthralling 

God's eternal deep of space, — 
Sang the brightness of His presence 

And the shining of His face. 

Down into bitter twilight, 
Into sin's discordant place. 

Flew the burst exultant, bringing 
Hearts repentant richest grace; 

" Lo, the brightness of His presence ! 
Oh, the shining of His face ! " 

Brave the seraph-song resounded 

Through the great cathedral's space; 

" He is with you on your altars ! 
Bid your loving grow apace ! 

Hail the brightness of His presence, 
Catch the shining of His face !" 

Circling skyward o'er the city 
Silver tones its din efface; — 

" He is source of all your home-light ; 
E'en in death His glory trace! 

Yours, the brightness of His presence; 
Wear the shining of His face!" 



[28] 



HEIGHTS AND DEEPS 

O Life, thou art stretching amain 

Into glorious reaches of sun, 
To the asphodel-glittering plain 
Of eternity's sweetness begun. 
That sweetness, O Lord, is the sight of Thy 

face, 
The peace of Thy presence, the touch of Thy 
grace. 

O life, thou art swinging oppressed 

To dreary, discouraging days. 
Where sorrow's sea-moaning unrest 

In shivering minors delays. 
Yet the deep is a-gleam with the love-light of 

Thee, 
Draw nearer, sweet Saviour, the darker it be! 



[29] 



THE VESPER CHIMES 

Sweet is the Angelus, 

Orange, the sky; 
Darkling the water's shine, 

Glimmering by. 
List! there are spirit-wings 

Sweeping, on high! 

Through the bell melody 

Angels of peace 
Whisper in unison 

Sorrow's surcease. 
" Thine, the ascendancy ; 
Hail thy release! 

Splendor is gathering; 

Life breaks in two: — 
Flasheth God's presence 

Like sun-arrows through ! 
Nearer, the scarlet blaze, 

Nearer to you. 

Soft as the shimmering 

Waters below. 
Closes the shadow-gate 

Whence thou shalt go 
Out of Earth's mistiness 

Into His glow. 



[30] 



Joyous we bend for Thee, 
Joy-winged, our call! 

Learn how divinest 
Love can enthrall. 

Leaving the limited, 
Grasping the All !" 

Angels upholding me, 

Fear have I none! 
Thou, my Redeemer, 

Dost wait for Thine own! 
Solace Life's weeping ones, 

Kneeling, alone. 



[31] 



OUR RESTING-PLACE 

A-WEARY of life's hot, exhausting day, 

Its dusty highways where we vainly plod, 

I turn aside into the quiet way 

Wherein the patient spirit walks with God. 

How still, how calm, how fragrant all the air ! 

Like forest aisles, or some fair temple dim! 
Without, the world may rush and suns may 
glare ; 

Within is peace, and comfort sent of Him! 

The inner meaning of the whirl without. 
The better side of life, so often dumb. 

Comes to us softly, free from every doubt. 
Clear, in the glory of the world to come. 

We see the silver brilliance of the cloud 
That lately fell upon us like a pall; 

A thankfulness we may not voice aloud 

Warms up our grief, as sunset reddens all. 

In still communion with the love divine 
Sorrow uplifts her pallid, fragile face. 

And passion dies. Yea, earth and heaven com- 
bine 
To guard the spirit's lowly resting-place! 



[32] 



To hush the waves of each unquiet heart, 

Send us, O Lord, Thy tender, brooding 
Dove! 

Some revelation of Thyself impart. 

Some visioning of Thine unmeasured love! 

These wilful souls, so spent with vain essay. 
Struggling against Thy wonder-working rod, 

Turn Thou their feet into the quiet way 
Wherein the patient spirit walks with God! 



[33] 



A GOD OF JUDGMENT 

" For the Lord is a God of Judgment ; blessed are all they that 
wait for him." Isa. 30: 18. 

The whirring loom, the engine's breath, 

The toiler's patient sigh 
Have found surcease; swift peace like death 

Falls from the sky, 
And, piercing through the purple of the 
sunset, 

Rings the poor man's cry : — 

" O Lord of Hosts ! How long, how long 

Shall Thy great wrath delay? 
This heaped-up gold, the greed and wrong 

Thou seest to-day: — 
Make answer, O compassionate Redeemer, 

For Thy poor, who pray!" 

The living Church, whose mighty song 

Cannot ascend to die 
Now lauds, unblest; the seraph throng 

Shivers on high. 
For, clanging through their dwelling-place 
celestial. 

Sweeps the poor man's cry. 

O saddened hearts, the Father hears ! 

Who holds the scales to-day? 
Be calm! He weighs the heaped-up years. 

Trust, though He slay! — 
Thou, Ruler of the sunrise and the sunset. 

Yea, Thou wilt repay. 

[34] 



A NOCTURNE 

We walk in darkness, Lord ! 
Show us the way ! 
By starlit avenues, a weary throng, 
Lead us through forest deeps of pain and wrong 
Till dawn of day. 

For day will dawn, O Lord: — 

Come, pearl and rose! 
Soon, soon ! our dark will be a blaze of light, 
And angels glories burn, in gorgeous flight 

O'er beaten foes. 

Give us but one poor torch, 

Lord of our hearts ! 
One little spark of love akin to Thine, 
That we may serve, unwearied, at Thy shrine 

Till life departs. 

Send us one faint star-ray 

To cheer us on; 
A benediction, like a rose, dropped down, 
To be a foretaste of a waiting crown 

When night is gone. 



[35] 



THE YEARS 

They come, O Lord, in lowly bloom 

Across the sea; 
They come with shine, they come with rain, 
Or azure skies without a stain: 
I welcome all, whate'er they be! 
The sweet procession of the years 

Leads on to Thee. 

O solemn years, alive with pain, 

Ye come uncalled! 
And, overpast, ye leave a trace, 
The Lord's fair finger-touch of grace, 
Until our hearts, howe'er appalled. 
See pansies grown on dearest graves 

And wait, enthralled. 

O golden years ! O blissful hours, 

Ye come at will ! 
In vain we seek your smiling eyes ; 
We cease our cries ; a swift surprise 
Ye softly bring. We eat our fill! 
O sweet procession of the days. 

Made sweeter still ! 

Ye come from o'er the soundless sea. 

Fleet, every one; 
A mighty and mysterious band. 
To tell us of that loving Hand 
That giveth ever shade and sun. 
O Heart, make answer true and brave. 

When all is done! 
[361 



THROUGH THE SHADOWS 

Nearer, oh, nearer, dear Christ, may we come. 
Nearer, oh, nearer, the light of our home! 
Moss-hung the forest ways, tangled and dear. 
Weary and stumbling, we shiver with fear; — 
Deep are the rivers — oh, heed Thou our moan ! 
How are we, helpless, to ford them alone? 

Only the starlight. Thy message of grace. 
Gleams in the dusk on each sorrow-white face ! 
Songs in the midnight Thy heaven-birds sing, 
Hopes for the morrow and comforts that cling; 
Almost Thine arms in caressing we feel. 
Almost the touch that all sorrow can heal. 

Deep in the woodland, bewildered, astray. 
Blackened the boles on our sin-haunted way: 
But for Thy compass that guideth us true. 
But for the pole-star that glimmereth through. 
How could we hope for the red of the gloam? 
How could the twilight e'er gather us home? 

Yet as we journey, the glimmer grows bright. 
Surer we feel of the city's great light ! 
Years seem the windings of bramble-set ways: 
Heavy the Cross, but it shortens the days ! 
Nearer, ah, nearer, dear Christ, are we come. 
Almost in sight of Thy welcoming home. 



[ST] 



Lead us full softly, Lord, to the light 
Shining perpetual, golden and white 1 
Since Thou hast guided Thy Saints unto Thee, 
Crowned them and set them Thy glory to see, 
Pardoned, we also, as loved ones at home, 
Into the blaze of Thy Presence would come! 



[38] 



EARLY MASS 

Like a great rose-red flower, the living dawn 
Comes shining, silent, o'er the waiting sea; 

And Thou dost come, by love's impulsion drawn, 
O blessed Christ, thus softly unto me. 

'Tis past belief, and yet I dare not doubt; 

The shining of Thy hidden power abides 
In consciousness of wonder all about 

And answering love, in sudden, swelling tides. 

It is the force that vivifies the world; 

Why may it not be life and warmth to me .'' 
Too great to comprehend, — yet, soft uncurled 

Like some rich bloom, its Heart of Love I 
see. 

Then forth we go, to work, O Lord, for Thee; 

Yet with us go the sacredness and charm, 
Unseen, yet felt, — Thine own sweet mystery 

Of Love, too near and tender for alarm. 

It soothes and comforts, lingering with us still ; 

Tenderly clinging, though our wayward 
souls 
Turn swiftly back to earth, whose good and ill. 

Like whitening waves, its undertow controls. 

Oh, wing us to the blue in fuller flight. 
Dispersing ill, as sunshine scatters rain! 

Shine on us, ever, Sacrificial Light! 

Follow us ever, charm of Love and Pain ! 

[39] 



THE SOUL'S LESSON 

Welcome, my spirit, the skies that hang o'er 
thee 

God is the sender; how canst thou complain? 
If they be golden, thank Him for the glory ! 

If they be clouded, thank Him for the rain ! 

Welcome in meekness the songs thou art 
learning ; 

Prize every note of the infinite strain! 
If it be minor, then sing it the sweeter ! 

Charm into music the sharpness of pain ! 

Look with distrust on the blaze of the roses 
In thy life's garden grown rampant at will! 

Sorrow will bow them; fear not! the bent 
blossoms 
Pallid, tear-laden, are lovelier still. 

God is thy teacher ; ah, how art thou learning? 

Well is He planning for thee in His love; 
Lowly the prelude that angels shall finish; 

Sorrowful roses shine, tearless, above. 



[40] 



IN THY POWER 

Where'er on earth thou standest, weary soul, 

Three things are thine: 
Meek as the mosses, on thy shaded knoll 
Kneel — for thou canst! — in penitential dole, 

Till grace Divine, 
Absolving, bid thy spirit rise and shine. 

This blessing thou hast won by looking down : 

Now, gaze around! 
Thy tenderness, it shattereth every frown; 
Quick, answering love thy heart of love shall 
crown : — 

O charm profound, 
Wherewith thy fellow-man is softly bound! 

So pierce thou heaven, at last! Thy passioned 
gaze 

Unhindered, now. 
The eye of love can penetrate its blaze; 
Thy voice ascend in silvery bursts of praise 

Where spirits bow 
To One love-crowned, with sacrificial brow. 



[41] 



VESPERS IN NEW YORK 

The yellow light is falling faint and sweet 
On the stone splendors of the city street ; 
Each silent mart accepts its touch of Heaven, 
The rest divine of one day out of seven: 
A softened world, athirst for dew outpoured, 
Awaits thy benediction, gracious Lord! 

On brick and marble, over reds and grays 
And snowy tracery wrought in wondrous ways, 
A mighty mist of strange, aerial gold 
Tenderly falls, like love, to wrap and fold: 
And hearts, as hard, awake with one accord 
To seek thy benediction, blessed Lord! • 

Thou knowest how disaster haunts our days, 
How tangled briars vex our darkening ways, 
Seest our bitter struggles, hope-bereft. 
When Patience seems the only angel left! 
Oh, make this breath of violets our reward, 
Come down to us in benediction. Lord! 

Thy presence can reverse our ebb of tide; 
Lo ! twilight burns, our sorrow-mists divide. 
The last of earth becomes a dawning light, 
Life's after-glow on Heaven's mysterious 

height ! 
Comfort us then, and now, with one sweet word, 
Thy pardoning benediction, Jesu, Lord! 



[42] 



THE HARVEST OF SOULS 

The billowy fields of life-supporting grain 
Show white to harvest. On the reapers go 

Across the shining levels once again 
To gather in the splendor, full aglow. 

Thine is the priceless harvest! Thine, O Lord, 
Not ours, save as Thou givest it in charge! 

Thy noons of glory and Thy dews accord 
In its creation and bestowal large. 

Its preciousness of yellow-circling suns 
Reveals Thy blest infinitude of love. 

The Fatherhood, whose tenderness outruns 
The comprehension of Thy worlds above! 

Yet here, the field and we, the reapers. Lord! 
Nay, can it be? These precious souls that 
Thou 
Dost make and guide and feed — so saith Thy 
Word — 
Are ours to win. Thy garner waiteth, now. 

Ah, weak and weary, sinners that we are! 

The silver sickles tremble in our hold ; — 
Yet on we hasten ! for, behold, afar 

The scarlet poppies fire the fields of gold. 

Ever the call is louder! Sweet it rings 
Across the late and melancholy plains ; 

[43] 



It takes the tender touch of angel wings 
To softly garner souls, where evil reigns. 

We need Thy Spirit, like the falling dew; 

We need Thy warm renewing from above. 
O Lord, behold our weakness ! we are few ! 

Bind our sheaves for us, with Thy cords of 
Love! 



[44] 



THE VOICE OF GOD 

Pulsing down the glory comes a Voice; 

It saith, "Rejoice 
In thy strength, in thy power, in the issues of 

the hour! 
That no gladness is forbid, that no talent shall 
be hid, 

O rej oice ! " 
Pulsing down the glory comes a Voice. 

O the precious consolation of the Voice; 

It cries " Rejoice 
Evermore, in Thy Lord and His riches of 

reward ; " 
While His overflowing grace, it pursueth thee 
apace, 
O rejoice 
In the precious consolation of the Voice. 

O the mighty trumpet summons of the Voice! 

It shouts, "Rejoice! 
For thy deepest sacrifice is thy title to the skies ; 
Counted worthy — even thee ! — to suffer on 
Earth's Calvary." 

Soul, rejoice 
In the mighty trumpet summons of the Voice. 

O the blessed Jubilate of the Voice ! 
" Bid earth rej oice ; 

[45] 



The day of the Redeemed immutably hath 

beamed ; 
Behold, the desert glows — it blossoms as the 

rose." 

O rejoice, 
In the blessed Jubilate of the Voice. 

Lo, the final swell, triumphant, of the Voice ; 

"Let Heaven rejoice, 
For the Consummation crowned, for the multi- 
tude around. 
Palmed and sceptred, who abide forever by the 
Crucified!" 
O rejoice! 
In the starry, blazing silence, lo! a Voice. 



[46] 



CHRISTUS CONSOLATOR 

Around me hung a tangle of wild weeds, 
Briars and thorns a-sting and rustling reeds ; 
Life seemed a barren heath, a weary waste, 
Skyed with gray doubt and misery's fore- 
taste. 

The weeds defied me. Bitterly I cried. 
Hard hurt and bleeding, — " Sorrow's circle 

wide 
Lies all around. No pathway out I see. — 
Christ of the Thorns ! Bend Thou to comfort 



I " 



me; 



Then all at once I felt Him near at hand 
And, kneeling, saw no more the barren land; 
A rifted sky shone blue with faith and love, 
His benediction from the Throne above. 

Ere long He spake, " Child, stay thou close 

to me! 
Here, all is well." — Could narrower circle 

be 
Than shut us in.? A hedge of lilies white 
And golden amaranths ablaze in light. 

In that sweet Presence every sorrow died; 
The solemn sense of pain was laid aside. 
For He was bearing it. O wondrous grace ! 
O help, O comfort of that holy Face ! 



[47] 



" Here thou art safe. — Yet every thorn re- 
mains, 

Not one is spared thee. This my love or- 
dains. 

Drain Thou my cup ! Its sacramental wine, 

Its passioned sweetness, be thy draught 
divine ! " 

Such word, alive with power and lilied peace, 
Still awed my soul. Would condescension 

cease 
When all my sin, past and to come, had 

rolled 
Beyond those circling walls of white and 

gold? 

Again He met my doubt, in mercy mild ; 
"Why slow of heart to believe .^ Look up, 

poor child ! " 
And, surging round, past sheltering bloom 

and bud, 
Lo, Pardon's crimson tide, the Precious 

Blood! 



[48] 



SONNETS 



ILLUMINATION 

I SAW the sunset fling its scarlet light 

Across a broad expanse of hill and vale: 
Far lakes, like crystal flames of Holy 
Grail, 
Flashed out, resplendent; every crag shone 

bright 
With scintillant reflections ; every height 
Bore fiery masses up of foliage frail. 
My artist friend stood raptured, hushed 
and pale. 
Lost in the glory of the wondrous sight. 
I knew he felt that all-pervasive power. 

The trail of Deity, itself unseen. 
Unconscious that the crimson of each flower 
Fell on himself the while, in might serene. 
" Alas," I cried, " Sir Doubter! Wherefore 

plod 
Through life thus groping? — Lo, the light 
of God!" 



[51] 



THE GIFT OF PEACE 

" O Garden once abloom in purple glow, 
Is thy life hard? Where chill November's 

blast 
Over thy haughty lines of corn has passed, 

Bare husks of desolation rustle low. 

Hast nothing left? No future, save of 
woe? " 
From heaven itself my answer fell at last; 
A silver miracle was quick downcast, 

The silent, swift, white beauty of the snow. 

Faint soul of mine ! so may there fall on thee. 

In thy late autumn, some sweet mystery. 
Some whiteness uncontaminate of earth, 
Some peace divine, whose high celestial 
birth 

Is of the starry lands unswept by death, 

Where the eternal spring-tide blossometh. 



[52] 



COMFORTED OF GOD 

Through the blue silences methinks I hear 
An angel word. I know its solemn tone, 
Its golden sweetness, as of reeds wind-blown, 

And far-off glory tenderly drawn near. 

It saith, " O son of man, why quake and fear, 
Loosing thy grasp upon the Eternal Throne.'* 
The starry, blazing deeps are all thine own. 

If thou be His, who holds thee passing dear. 

He, the Divine, embraces thy poor soul 
In every snowy bloom or music-voice 
That touches it with Heaven, and saith, " Re- 
joice! " 

He draws thee to Him in thy days of dole; 
Save of sweet penitence would crave no tear. 
But, with soft uplift, cries, " Be of good 
cheer ! " 



[53] 



ACCEPTANCE 

A SPLENDID sweep of silent, jeweled snow 

On sharp New England meadows lay out- 
spread 
Mystic and pure, as if for angels' tread. 
Dazzling my spirit with its steady glow, 
While, overhead, the pitying blue bent low 
In tender benediction. " Peace," I said, 
"At last — at last! — thou fallest! Heart 
that bled, 
Each ruddy drop, sharp, sacrificial woe, 
Lo, grace of sweet acceptance taketh all ! " 
Now sing His love, late-anguished heart of 

mine; 
Thy Jesu, thine! Sing of the touch Divine 
Of restoration, sweet as snows that fall! 
Of answering love that to the zenith flew. 
And worship, steady as the steadfast blue. 



[54] 



THE MISSION FIELD 

'Tis humble work, this reaping! Yet Thy call 

Brings down Thy glory with it, sweeping 
o'er. 

Thine is the field and Thine the threshing- 
floor, 
O Blessed Lord! The yellow masses fall 
Beneath our silver sickles, gladdening all, 

While bright, afar, — behold its open door ! 

Thy golden garner glitters evermore. 
Why heed the world? Its wormwood or its 

gall? 
How vain its sneer ! How vain its luring word I 

I see the vision, I behold Thy smile ! — 
The sickles glide like music. — Quickly gird 

My limbs for labor ! Nothing shall beguile. 
Thy jewelled horn is blowing! Swift I run 
To join Thy reapers singing in The sun. 



[55] 



A SOUL'S AWAKENING 

I WANDERED lone beneath the starry skies 
In early days of spring-time when the dark 
Is all pulsation. Through the dusky park 

Shy, scarlet maple-buds with sleepy eyes 

Hung drooping overhead. In rapt surprise 
I felt the stirring life, whose hidden spark 
Of strange, mysterious fire awakes the lark 

And bids the frail anemone arise. 

Then came a melting fragrance unawares, 
The breath of violets, which softly rose 
From out their dewy purple of repose. 

Sweetening the dark. " O Love," I cried, "that 
dares 
Reveal itself to darkened souls like mine, 
I feel Thee, clasp Thee ! — Jesu, Lord 
Divine ! " 



[66] 



NATURE'S ANTIPHON 

A STRANGE sweet antiphon is ever swung 

'Twixt earth and heaven. In drought her cry 
Ascends in sharpened notes of agony 

And the swift pattering of the shower down- 
flung 

Brings music-answer. If the frost have clung 
With icy clasp to Nature till her sigh 
Grow faint death-utterance, then, lo ! on 
high 

The sun's warm Jubilate, said or sung. 

With prayer for grace appeareth peace — and 

joy — 

In dewy replica. If bounds annoy. 

Opens the Infinite. Through Death's minor 
chord. 

Straight, angels hymn the rising of the Lord ! 
Oh, human souls, uplifted like the flowers, 
How closely clings the Father-heart to ours. 



[67] 



IN THE VALLEY 

Can we do nothing with the darks of life? 

Must we still crouch within the purple gloom, 

Low at the base of giant hills that loom 
In might supernal, with strange glories rife? 
True, earth is full of sin and woe and strife; 

What shall we do? Cling to the valley's 
bloom 

Shackled with gold, nor strive for larger 
room ? 
Call ourselves helpless? Or, with drum and fife 
In loud bravado, say, " We do not care ! " 

Open, O Lord, our weary, wilful eyes ! 

Help us to climb the mount of sacrifice. 
Our Calvary, and grasp the glories there ! 
Give us for silken robes, for greed and pride. 
Some mountain staff of labor at Thy side ! 



[58] 



WALKING IN DARKNESS 

The stars a-tremble in the upper air 

Glimmer through August leafage dark and 
old, 

By dusty highways and the dustier gold 
Of ripened grain, as on we slowly fare. 
High mystery of night ! Let none despair 

Of darkness, though strange shadowings 
enfold 

His sultry way ; but, like Saint Michael bold, 
Face all his foes, defying dusk or glare. 

Through heat and gloom soft consolations 
thrill. 
In silvery dews and star-ray's glimmering. 
Welcome refreshings from the blue serene ; 
Whether he kneel, depressed, by some lone rill 
Or lift his head to their bright shimmering. 
He feels the living touch of the Unseen. 



[59] 



THE GREAT GLORY 

The light of God enfolds us, like the blaze 
Of some full scarlet sunset. And our hearts 
Grow calm within it ! Every tear that starts 

Is dried without our knowing. Solemn grays 

Of life and life's vague puzzles, purple haze 
Of ancient griefs, or the new sting that darts 
Immediate pang, — each sullenly departs. 

In the great glory lost, while we give praise. 

O Light of Light, shine on us evermore! 
Draw us within Thine all-embracing glow! 

We would absorb Thy strength, Thy love 
adore. 
And feel its warmth of tenderest overflow. 

O Altar Light! O Sacrificial blaze! 

Lift into splendor our discouraged ways ! 



[60] 



TWO SOULS 

" O SPIRIT mighty-winged, what sawest thou 
In the space-realm of Mine eternal night?'* 
" I saw a quivering, pitiable sight. — 

Lord, pour out Thy grace! — For, even 

now, 

1 faced a naked soul. I marvel how 

It could so dwell alone, bereft of light! 
Afraid of Thee, Whose soft protective 
might 
No plea of misery doth disallow; 
A spectre-soul, without Thee, cold and bare. 
I shivered as I passed. — Then, oh, how fair. 
Dear Lord, it shone! — I met a soul of 

Thine 
Calm in its love. Thy blessed peace 
divine 
Did fold it in and wrap it in pure flame. — 
Hark! how it sings and magnifies Thy 
Name ! " 



[61] 



THE ANCIENT ANSWER 

I SAW a beauteous woman passion-rent, 
Her eyes aflame with wrath, which, grown 

white-hot, 
In tears dissolved. I cried, " Why wail 
thy lot, 
O woman star-bejewelled? Discontent 
And white-armed writhing, piteous lament 
And cries to heaven — or hell — befit thee 

not, 
O daughter of America! God wot 
Thine only yoke is of thine own consent." 

" Wherefore I wail my lot eternally ! 

When life is marriage-wronged, what then 
remains 
But Death and Judgment? Unto God I 
cry." 
And then I saw three angels o'er the plains 
Come floating in soft answer from above, 
Sweet well-known spirits. Patience, Prayer 
and Love. 



[62] 



POVERTY 

We are the poor ; for us no rosy wine 
O'erbrims the sober cup of every day. 
"No sparkling vintage shines for us" we 
say; 
Happy if no strong, bitter herbs combine 
To make us shrink from this, our draught 
divine. 
For the Lord pours it out. His yea and nay 
Are on it; best, then, in His unknown way 
Must be its bitterness. " Nay, 'tis not 

thine," 
Saith he, " to riot in the daylight's glare 
Or heap up gold with my great curse there- 
on." 
"Thanks, Lord !" we cry. "Thy blessed 
yea we see; 
Thou givest us sweet homes, for love is there, 
Fair calm of conscience, peace to rest upon, 
Patience, like starlight, and the sight of 
thee." 



[63] 



THE SHEPHERD'S CALL 

Lord, pity Thou the souls that stray from 
Thee; 
Compassionate their loneliness, their pain, 
Lost in Thy universe — the brand of Cain 

Upon them, wondering how it came to be! 

Not wholly sinful, these, — as Thou dost see. 
Poor wanderers o'er a pathless yellow plain 
Or 'wildering heath a-drip with recent rain. 

They gaze perplexed. Ah, whither shall they 
flee.? 

Recall them. Thou, the Shepherd! Thine they 
are, 
Thy precious sheep. Detain them till they 
hear 
Thy sweet, alluring Voice ! Then shall their 
skies 
Fill full of light, rare lilies from afar 

Fling sudden whiteness on their way made 
clear 
And heavenly heights greet their illumined 
eyes. 



[64] 



IN PRAISE OF WISDOM 

Who comes with thee, O Father Time to-night? 
'Twas Folly once, and Mirth in elfin guise, 
And Hope, whose flash electric lit our skies : 
Now, lo, a Presence soft in lambent light 
Whose touch is calm, — O Time, give up the 
fight! 
Thou bringest snowy locks and tearful eyes ; 
She takes the sorrow out. Thou givest sighs ; 
She stills them, broadening the inner sight. 
Her name is Wisdom. Win her grace who can, 
The sweetest boon companion 'neath the sun! 
Serene she speaks, — "Seek that which 
never dies. 
The truth of God, O dying child of man ! 
Th' eternal majesty of thoughts that run 
Down the far rivers of the centuries." 



[65] 



DEVOTION 

As TENDER as the earliest lines of light 
The gradual dawn diffuses, bending low 
To set the world abloom — as sweet aglow 
With chrism of fire and dew, Thou bendest 

bright 
To comfort us in sorrow's dreary night. 
O Heart of Condescension, touched by woe, 
Heart of high Heaven, whose tenderness we 
know. 
Draw us to Thee by love's eternal might! 
How can we cease, dear Jesu, to adore 

Thy mystic wounds, become our healing 

balm ? 
Thy pierced hands, outspread in holy calm, 
Bring benediction now and evermore. 
Our hearts are resting, still as nesting birds, 
In Thee, our Lord. O bliss too sweet for 
words ! 



[66] 



THE VESPER CANTICLE 

Two souls on earth did sing Magnificat; 
One in a spacious minster rich with gold, 
Onyx, green malachite and carvings old. 

So fair men ceased to pray and gazed thereat! 

Earth's riches were this spirit's kneeling-mat, 
Yet unto God it sang, full overbold. 
Lost, the meek lesson by the anthem told, — 

The world, obsequious, praised its plutocrat. 

The other soul, in poverty and pain. 

Afar, in darkness, sang and sang again. 
" O nightingale of earth, I know thy song ; 
Its love hath scaled high heaven. I right all 
wrong !" 

Thus spake the Lord : " There, ever, to its King 

The lowly soul Magnificat shall sing." 



[67] 



THE DARK COLEUS 

A VOICE resounds from out my garden close ; 
A pallid minor, as of throbbing bells, 
Or melancholy plaint of one who dwells 
Unreconciled, 'mid chill of foreign snows. 
The passion-songs of every damask rose 
Grow calm before it. Snowy cloister-cells 
Stand praiseless ; no sweet lily-nun repels 
The dusky stranger. Swarth his visage 

glows ; 
"Alas !" he cries, " No bloom is mine, no place 
Of honeyed sweetness. Life is dark tur- 
moil!" 
Be wiser, thou! The Master forth shall 
fare; 
And find in this thy crown, thy highest grace, 
Still, patiently, to form a perfect foil 
For the white blossoms other lives shall 
bear. 



[68] 



MAY AND THE TOILER 

Amid aerial vaporousness of gold, 

The breezy halo of her flickering hair, 
Lo, blue-eyed May comes shining, debon- 
air. 
Swift, snowy blooms bestar the misty wold 
And violets spring to greet her. Hearts un- 
fold. 
Like buds sun-warmed. "Arise, O sons 

of care, 
To hope and cheer and ecstasies of 
prayer !" 
Her golden summons ringeth clear and 

bold;— 
" God's warfare wage, afresh, with sin and 
pain! 
His sun shines out! His grace makes all 

things new! 
His tenderness descendeth like the dew; 
Soft as my showers, sure as the latter rain, — 
Sure as the solid earth, the blue above, — 
Stands the sweet mystery of His patient 
love." 



[69] 



LOWLINESS 

Eeewhile I watched the growing of the grass, 
Its generous, patient beauty sinking slow 
Into my heart. No sower came to sow. 
Yet glorious in red and purple mass 
Its blossoming for harvest. Grade and class 
It has, most clearly; yonder, sturdy grow 
The salt sea-grasses on the marshes low, 
While, here, is turf of velvet. Ox and ass 
Graze, even on the stubble. Not a blade 
But gives its all, unshrinking! None rebel, 

None murmur, or in pride of place presume. 
Spare us, O Lord, in Thy great balance 
weighed ! 
For use or grace, for service or for bloom, 
Thy hand is wise, Thy ordering still is well. 



[w] 



THE SPLENDOR OF JOY 

A BLAZE of gladness fills the eager earth; 
A fire of love enkindled out of ken 
In that Abyss of Love for mortal men 

Adored as God, Source of all glorious birth. 

Well may we worship ! Yea, our very mirth 
Becomes rejoicing laughter poured again 
Into his ears from every moor and fen 

And crag and vale, else sunk in bitterest dearth. 

O Lord, receive our joy as gratitude. 

Felt music, to thy love! Thy splendor wins 
One burst the more from our incessant praise ! 
Thy sun draws vapor up in opal haze — 

And through Thy warmth our spirits' warmth 
renewed, 

Soars where the golden Infinite begins. 



[71 



VIRGO AMABILIS 

The ancient world lay shadowy and chill; 
Wailing its loss of bloom, its barren years, 
Its sin and pain, gray doubts and unshed 
tears 
Ere th' Almighty arm wrought His sweet will, 
And song and shine fell in ecstatic thrill 

From His full cup of love. Lo, one appears, 
A Rose, all virginal! Celestial spheres 
Held nothing sweeter, our earth-cries to still. 
Thou amiable most — yea, steeped in love — 
Who, thro' Thy Son, hast won our rebel 
hearts. 
Pure Blossom of the earth, white Star on 
high. 
Behold the narrow round wherein we move ! 
Console us, feeling every tear that starts, 
And show us our Redemption drawing 
nigh. 



[72] 



THE WHITE CHOIR 

O WHITE-PLUMED choir about the great white 
Throne, 
In starlight glory ever pure and fair, 
Is there no memory of our lower air, 
Our fair green earth, by heavenly breezes 

blown 
Across your lyres? No longing that makes 
moan 
For love and loved ones? — Is the silver 

blare 
Of great angelic trumpets everywhere? 
Or, in God's presence do ye claim your own? 

Again, O Lord, we pierce the silent blue. 
From our earth-exile crying to the skies ! 

In answering pity send us down a clue 
To guide our climbing up to Paradise, — 

That we, with all Thy saints forever blest. 

May reach its silvery altitudes of rest. 



[73] 



SUPREMACY 

The greatest force on earth — I too, would 
say — 
Is not the dynamo's unearthly might, 
Nor its bewildering glory-blaze of light, 

Nor power of atmosphere, in new display! 

Silent and tender as the break of day 

White in the East, ere rosy dawn is bright. 
Swift as a seraph's unimagined flight. 

That force controls with Sacrificial sway. 

O hidden love, rare crown of tenderness 

Set on our trembling, all-unworthy brows! 

Deep-wounded Heart! Thy solemn mute caress 
Makes answering power. O warmth of eager 
vows. 

Wherewith our souls, ablaze with love of Thee, 

O sweet Christ-Heart, would meet Thy 
clemency ! 



[74] 



REBUKE 

LOj I THE Sun, outspread my golden feast! 
Illuminate with strange, prismatic rays, 
A seven-fold color cadence, full ablaze; 
The holy fire, which I, as God's High-priest, 
Enkindle and sustain. Nor has it ceased 
To vivify the earth and mete its days 
Since Chaos died the death. Then, sing my 
praise 
For I am faithful! Come ye from the East, 
Where 'mid the burning sands men worship me 
Like some dull idol made with doltish hands ! 
At my Creator's word, alike I shine 

On good and ill; so come ye from all lands, 
Mad creatures of the dust, who revel free 
At my low board, yet scorn His feast Divine ! 



[75] 



TWO GLORIES 

The broad snow-fields around lie angel-pure, 
In placid whiteness ; but the ice below, 
Pellucid blue to-day, to-morrow's snow 

May softly silver or rose-rays demure 

Retouch divinely — never, never sure 
Of its own fleeting color. Sinking slow 
The sun inundates earth with scarlet glow, 

And lo, its tint is flame. Yet all allure. 

These strange reflective changes, born of light, 

Charm us, poor natives of a changing earth; 

Our souls repeat her vermeil and her grays. 

Her fluctuant beauty, in its hourly flight; — 
And yet we yearn for our immortal birth, 
Our changeless emerald of celestial days. 



[76] 



THE FEAST OF ALL SAINTS 

This day is like a lily, falling sweet, 

Straight out of Paradise. We seem to hear 
Its blessed bells, exultant, close anear, 

Resounding through our pain. How light, 
how fleet. 

On its soft sward, the gleam of angel feet. 
How white they shine! Abloom in holy 

cheer. 
The lilied fields, where souls surpassing dear 

To us below, rejoice in rest complete. 

O Saints redeemed, ye know our sin-dark hours ! 

Mother of Mercy, thou hast shared our 

strife ! 

Earth is but sad; — drop down celestial flowers 

Of interceding peace ! — Thou, Source of Life 

In earth and heaven, wilt hear! Thy pity falls 

On us, to-day, from Heaven's transcendent 

walls. 



[Ill 



A WIDOWED SOUL 

I SOUGHT an open rose in silent bloom: 
Alone it stood, in peerless pristine glow 
Wing-brushed by baby Loves, alert to know 

Such coverts fair of greenery and gloom. 

Then, when I found it, fell this note of doom; 
" Thy cherished rose doth bud and smile and 

grow 
Over a grave. August, thy silent foe! 

Both sacredness and glory crown the tomb. 

Thy rose bereft doth burn in red of dawn, 
Then, shines beneath the noon's aerial blue 

And blessedness is hers. — Mad one, begone! 
Stir not her peace! Strive after roses new; 

Responsive warmth thy sunny ardors crave: 

Her deepest life is rooted in a grave." 



[78 



SWEETER THAN ALL 

The world holds very many tender things, 
Soft as the velvet touch that mothers know 
Of baby fingers. In the early glow 

Of April how the budding forest springs 

To ruddy flush of silent blossomings ! 

Behold the dawn, unfolding, faint and slow, 
The strange, sweet "gradual," ere magnolias 
blow. 

The scent of roses — how it lives and clings ! 

Though these may touch us in their own sweet 
way, 
Unconsciously, as dews and darkness fall. 

Drawing us under Love's divine control, 
This one thing is far tenderer than all — 

Consider it, ye wanderers of to-day ! — 

The Christ's soft pity for the erring soul. 



[19] 



CHRISTMAS TIDE 



THE ADVENT OF PEACE 

" O TELL me of the grace of God, 

How it comes in !" 
A rose-bush, climbing from the sod, 

Its bloom akin 
To flush of dawn — full softly, undismayed. 

On the chill pane, my window's barrier, 
laid. 
" O Love that naught repels, how free 

We ope to thee!" 

The grace of God! I thought and wept. 

Then, o'er the vale 
A silver mist in silence crept. 

And violets pale 
And weary grasses lifted happy heads ; 

The poor, parched plains and dreary 
water-sheds 
Did all rej oice. " Would, Heart of mine, 

Such joy were thine!" 

" The grace of God. And does it meet 

Our every need?" 
His sunbeams, sent in answer sweet, 

Touched every reed 
A-quiver in the desolate morass 

With points of gold, nor once did over- 
pass 
The finest stem. Grace crushed with good 

My doubting mood. 

[83] 



" That grace, O God ! can it forgive 

My sin and shame? 
And in its sweetness may I live 

To Thy great Name?" 
A far sea-splendor overswept my soul, 

Filling each poor rock-cranny in its roll; 
With calm, like that where depths begin. 
His grace came in. 



[84] 



A CHRISTMAS GLORIA 

Lo, A WONDER shines upon us, 

Heavenly Alleluias rise! 
Christ, the meek, is born of Mary ! 

Mortals, hail in glad surprise 
The whiteness of humility 

Uplifted to the skies. 

Come, behold the Blessed Mother, 
Pure as seraph's snowy wing ! 

Come, adore the lowly Jesus, 
Bring your whitest offering! 

Oh, come in grand humility 
And own your gracious King! 

Benediction, softly shining, 
On the Virgin Mother lies ; 

Soft she sheds it, white as roses. 
Till thy wakened spirit cries, 

" Oh, sweetness of humility 
Exalted to the skies !" 

Silver rills of gracious blessing 
From the holy heights untrod 

Make the lowest valleys greenest. 
Star with lily-bloom their sod, — 

And earth-contemned humility 
Is close in touch with God. 



[85] 



Learn the lesson taught divinely 

Bj the sweet Incarnate One! 
Love will make thy lowly duties 

Fragrant with His great " Well done !" 
Thy shadows warm with rosy light, 

The glory of His sun. 

High, the golden Alleluias ! 

Quick, the universe replies: 
" Hail, all-gracious Mary Mother ! 

Hail, irradiant mysteries ! 
All hail, to-day, our royal Babe, 

The wonder of the skies !" 



[86] 



A STAR-SONG 

The Star of Fame, it shineth out 

Sharp on the wintry sky; 
Yet through the purple rifts of doubt 

A fairer I descry ! 
For ah, the poor and lowly, — 

Who softly blesseth them 
But the Star Divine that to earth came down 
And shone on the Babe of Bethlehem? 

The Star of Love, it gazeth down 

With sweet, entrancing eye; 
It proffers Earth a passion-crown 

Of roses born to die! 
Too soon their splendor faileth; 

O changeless diadem, 
'Tis thee I seek! — I would journey on, — 
I too, — o'er the sands to Bethlehem. 

The Star of Gold will never cease 

To lead our steps astray ; 
The fount of grace, the palms of peace 

Light up the narrow way! 
O'er deserts bare and burning 

Lead on, celestial gem. 
Till the earth-bells ring and the angels sing, 
"He hath bowed to the Christ at Bethlehem !" 



[87] 



LABOR AND CAPITAL 

Two brethren stood by the palace door, 

Both bitter in swift reply: 
The one was rich and the other poor, 

And the King of the land passed by. 

A herald with golden wand outspake: 
"Ye cumber the King's highway ! 

He Cometh in glory ! His trumpets awake ! 
Beware of his wrath to-day ! 

His gracious smile it is vain to seek 

Till anger and clamor die; 
He loves the wise and he loves the meek : 

Peace! Peace! for the King goes by. 

Poor toiler, crying forevermore, 

Thy life is poor, indeed; 
For love is wealth and thy heart is sore. 

But the King, he will know thy need. 

Poor miser, whom gold embittereth! 

Quick I Answer thy brother's cry ! 
For love is life and in hate is death. 

And hasten, the King goes by !" 

Then lo, the sweep of the royal train 
And the lowly monarch's eye! 

For the bitter hearts were at one again 
Both bowed as the King went by. 

And slowly, tenderly, floating o'er, 

A voice divine came nigh: 
" Yea, there is guerdon for both in store. 

For the loving I pass not by !" 

[881 



THE COMING SNOW 

Sad is the shining of autumn suns 

Afar in space, 
And sad the smile of God's weary ones, 

Who cry for grace! 
We strive to tell of our Christmas cheer, 

But they are dumb; 
For want and woe are their portion here 

And snows must come. 

Sadder, the shining of autumn suns 

On hearts at ease 
In golden homes, which the beggar shuns ; 

God pity these ! 
The hardened heart is the coldest thing 

Earth's winter knows; 
Send us Thy grace, O Heavenly King, 

To melt its snows! 



[89] 



THE BELLS OF YULE 

In pearly peals the Christmas bells 

Float o'er the waste, float o'er the snows; 

O'er city towers, o'er crags and fells 
The loving cadence softly flows. 

They sing of Heaven, though earth be dark; 

Their mystery of joy a-gleam 
In bluer skies than e'er the lark 

Thrilled with his ecstasy supreme. 

They sing of Thee, O Babe Divine, 

In rosy loveliness impearled! 
Our spirits hail Thy starry sign, 

O blest Redeemer of the world. 

Thy tiny hands with rose-leaf touch 
Slay all our sin, eiface our shame; 

Thy pardoning purity is such 

They die consumed in its sweet flame. 

High heaven doth bend, to see and bless. 
Where thou dost smile, where thou dost fold 

Repentant souls in soft caress 
Above the altar's blaze of gold. 

In whitest innocence enshrined. 

Receive our gifts ! Our lives receive ! 

We lose ourselves in Thee, to find 
A thousand fold for all we leave. 

O bells of Yule, ring out our cry 
Of love and thankfulness to-day ! 

Sweet Babe of Bethlehem, drew nigh 
To us who love Thee, yearn and pray. 
[90] 



TWO TRAVELLERS 

Amid the sparkling snows of Christmas Eve, 
While fiery stars startled the breathless cold, 
On a bleak country road two travellers bold 

Met, glad of heart. Cried one, " Now, by your 
leave. 

Good comrade, we will hasten ! — to receive 
Our homes' warm welcome earlier and behold 
Our children's merriment." His bright face 
told 

That he, of all men, had light cause to grieve. 

Answered the other, " Gladly, friend of mine, 
I, too, press onward. — See'st thou yonder 
light.? 
There, in blest walls, the yellow tapers shine! 
Thither I journey, earth-love past from 
sight. 
Leaving my dead, — ^life, self! — at His dear call, 
The Christ, who is my Home, my Light, my 
All!" 



[91] 



THE ROSE'S HEART 

Seraph songs are drifting downward 
Through the blue abyss of night; 

Seraph wings are softly shining 
With a strange, immortal light ; 

Seraph faces bend, adoring. 
O'er a vision glory-bright. 

Through the spaces of high heaven, 
Through processionals of stars. 

Throbs a sudden startled wonder; 
Pressing past the glory bars 

Sweep the eager angels, seeking 
Whiteness no earth-shadow mars. 



Center of created beings, 
Lo, the Virgin Mother mild 

Smiles upon the choir celestial, 
Closer clasps the wondrous child! 

Love and purity, like roses. 
Crown the maiden undefiled. 

Love Eternal clasps creation; 

And our world, thus set apart. 
Swinging softly, finds the wonder 

Nestling in its golden heart! 
Blessed Jesus, crowned yet lowly, 

Ours eternally Thou art! 



[92] 



Thou wilt love us! Thou wilt save us, 
Worshippers on bended knee! 

Silvery visions, like the angels. 
We would have to-day, of Thee — 

Learning of Thy blessed Mother, 
Queen of sweet humility! 

Angels, sing! And, shepherds, hail Him, 

God Incarnate, Mary's Son ! 
To whose Heart of Love appealing 

Man hath princely pardon won. 
Sing His clemency unfailing! 

Sing His reign on Earth begun. 



[93] 



A HERALD'S CALL 

Lo, A VOICE like many waters, 
Sharp, its mighty trumpet ring ! 

" Hear and answer, souls immortal ! 
Love and homage meekly bring ! 

He is coming ! ! He is coming ! 
Jesu, who is Lord and King ! " 

" Who will seek Him? Who will know Him? 

Who of us his Lord would meet? 
Who will spurn the rosy wine-cup? 

Who will leave the crowded street? 
Who will really shout *Hosanna' 

Flinging treasure at His feet? 

Bells are ringing for His coming; 

Pure, pathetic mercy-strains 
Call us ever to His presence. 

Call us from our money-gains. 
Would an angel's trumpet sounding 

Wake us more from old disdains? 

Or would habitude of evil 
Flout the Advent-angel still? 

Would our selfish, frozen fingers 

Clutch their gold lest aught should spill. 

Though a seraph's torch were blazing. 
Though a Voice divine should thrill? " 



[94] 



" They will know Him," cried the herald, 
" Who have sought Him at His shrine ; 
They whose spirit eyes have seen Him, 

They who bear His lowly sign. 
Lift the Cross and shout * Hosanna,' 

Ye who love the King Divine!" 



[95] 



THE FAMILY OF GOD 

Mid eddying pools of golden light in the 
mansions of the sky, 

Where emerald mistings softly shade the 
Majesty on high 

Before their rainbow splendors a seraph 
sang his song 

Of everlasting sweetness with the bright an- 
gelic throng. 

" O Lord of life and glory ! O Lord of love 

and grace, 
The universe rejoices in the shining of Thy 

face! 
Thy household, all of angels, principalities 

and powers. 
Is lost in bliss undreamed of — and Eternity 

is ours." 

O that voice and its ethereal, divinely 

tempered tone! 
Yet another voice succeeded, with a pathos 

of its own; 
It sang of earthly sorrow, of a shadowed 

world afar, 
A green earth swinging fitfully, where death 

and passion are. 

Then Gabriel, Prince who standeth in the 

Presence of the Lord, 
Responded sweet, " The Blessed Saints have 

never missed reward; 

[96] 



Encrowned, they stand among us, though 

fiery paths they trod, — 
Rejoicing now, great winged Ones, in the 

righteousness of God. 

I know their earth of sorrow, of sin and 

bated breath; 
I saw its wondrous blossom, too, the Maid 

of Nazareth! 
But when amid the silence she breathed the 

mystic word 
'Twas flooded to the full with joy of its 

incarnate Lord. 

O that wonderful first Christmas, when 
anguish fled away 

And earth shone out in bliss divine from 
ancient clouds of gray! 

O rose-red dawn soft-footed, so silent, angel- 
shod, 

That drew a world of sinners to the Family 
of God! 

Transcendent Family of Love! The Father 

and the Son 
And Holy Spirit, co-eterne, majestic Three 

in One! 
The Virgin Mother and the Saints, the 

Martyrs and the throng 
Of souls redeemed, who gladly sing their 

everlasting song. 

[97] 



Below are mortals, faint and weak, and very 

prone to fall; 
Within Thy blessed circle, dear Saviour, 

keep them all; 
Oh, clasp them close. Thou Love Divine! 

O'er rugged ways they plod : — 
There is Christmas joy forever, in the 

Family of God." 



[98] 



THE COMING OF THE PRINCE 

O THOU who wanderest where the thorns 

Are sharpest to thy feet, 
Thy voice is keyed like his who scorns 

The hand of guiding sweet. 
O sinner, tortured by thy sin, 

Yet helpless sin to flee, 
A light is on the hilltop ! And love is sure to 



win 



One is coming through the darkness unto 
thee. 

And thou, astray where fogs are dense 

And paths look gray and dim, — 
In doubtings lost, or fear intense 

Through beliefs grown spectre-grim, — 
The dawning gleameth silver-white 

Beyond the mystic sea, 
For pity is a power at the very source of 
light! 

One is coming from the glory unto thee. 

Thou, most of all, whose singing sad 

Melts every heart to tears, 
Shalt rise, aglow, with carol glad. 

When Christ, thy Light, appears. 
For sorrow winneth heart of joy 

From his dear Heart of Love : — 
O Prince upon the hilltop ! our misery destroy 

Through the wonder of Thy coming from 
above ! 

[99] 



A burst of voices, as the day 

Burns rosy in the East; 
" Oh, tell us. Who is on the way? 

Is He or Judge, or Priest? " 
" O sinner, weeper, doubter, rise 

This gentle One to see. 
Who Cometh, full of loveliness ! — Those 

sweet, pathetic eyes. 
See them shining, love-illumined, upon 
thee!" 



[100] 



CHRISTMAS EVE 

The stars are flashing out; the violet air 
Is soft with breathings from the heavenly 

hills ; 
'Mid bursts of song the silver dew distils, 
And eager angels ever earthward fare 
To hail the Prince of Light with sudden blare 
Of Alleluias, whose exultance fills 
The heights of heaven with sympathetic 
thrills. 
" Peace ! peace on earth ! " they lovingly de- 
clare. 

Shout the glad tidings to remotest suns, 
O cherubim and seraphim ablaze! 

Adore our Infant Jesus, heavenly ones ! 
And, pardoned souls, uplift eternal praise ! 

For love of us, He condescends to come 

To Mary's arms — and make our hearts His 
home. 



[101] 



THE CHILDREN OF THE KINGDOM 

There are baby voices carolling, and baby eyes 

aglow 
And dimpled cheeks, whose tender flush the 

Christmas roses know; 
O children of our weary earth, shout fearlessly 

and sing 
For He is come, the Jesus-Babe! O hail Him 

Lord and King! 

And we think of blessed Bethlehem, that night 

beneath the stars ; 
O Mary Mother, melt our hearts, efface their 

stinging scars ! 
The waxen touch of Love Divine the Holy Child 

bestows ; 
Oh, bid His blessing fall on us, like rose-light 

on the snows. 

Through all our earthly sorrowing His inno- 
cence can pass 

And make a whiteness in our souls bright as 
the Sea of Glass, 

Where, full aflame in emerald light, the Lamb 
for sinners slain, 

Eternally reflected, shall forever live and reign. 

There are baby angels carolling across that 

soundless sea; 
Exultant, in a silver flood of light and holy 

glee, 

[102] 



In the everlasting Presence of the Christ they 

knew below, — 
O tearless eyes ! O wondrous peace, which earth 

may never know! 

For here are crowns of briars ; but immortal 
roses cling 

To brows illumined by the light of endless wor- 
shipping. 

We walk in sorrow-laden wilds; but oh, the 
lilied plains ! 

Their dewy glow, perpetual grace! O misty, 
golden rains ! 

Smile on our children here below, O Mary 

Mother dear! 
O Virgin-born Redeemer, bless all their baby 

cheer ! 
Oh, clasp them ever close to Thee and calm our 

wearied eyes : — 
But ah, no tears for those who keep their 

Christmas in the skies ! 



[103] 



DECEMBER PENITENCE 

"Go, GATHER up the fragments that remain 1" 

It is thy bidding, Lord ! 
And forth into December frosts and rain 
My soul goes on her final quest of pain, 

With glad accord. 

Poor soul! Is nothing left of all thy store? 

Nothing to glean or heed? 
Thy golden fruit is eaten ; nevermore 
Wilt thou renew its sweetness ; — save the 
core, 

The precious seed ! 

Perchance it was all idly flung afield ; 

Right humbly bring it now ! 
And royal blessings of rich orchard yield, 
White blossomings of plenty unconcealed. 

Shall crown thy brow. 

Thy strain of tender music fainteth slow; 

The night is wearing late, 
And sorrow bringeth solemn hush of snow — 
Yet listen ! in the dawning's purple glow, 

Sweet echoes wait. 

The past is gone, with so much of thy life; 

Its chain of silver hours 
Is in the Master's hand, and strangely rife 
With awful witness of thy fainting strife. 

Thy sin-crushed powers. 

[ 104 ] 



Thy fairy garden, spoiled of all its bloom. 

Has only thorns to leave, 
And frozen shades of pale November gloom; 
Are these sure emblems of thy final doom 

And no reprieve? 

Nay, hear the blessed voice ! The Master 
heeds 
The fragments that remain. 
Perchance, beyond thy garden's broken 

weeds, 
Some tuft of scarlet leafage 'mid the reeds 
Thou shalt attain. 

Gather it gladly, and with loving fears 

Go cast it at His feet! 
Among the rounded garlands of the years 
Fling in thy single cluster, wet with tears; 

Tho' late, 'tis sweet! 



[105] 



THE COUNCILS OF GOD 

His Fiat Eternal resounds through the skies, 
And, lo, a Flower! 
A Rose of womanhood, like to none! 
And a smile goes out from the very Throne 
At the beauty a-light in the virginal eyes. 
Her peerless dower. 

Again the great Fiat is hurled from on high: 
A splendor gleams 
Anew in the wearisome dusk of earth, 
The silvery dew of a marvelous Birth — 
And the world is aglow! Its Messiah is nigh, 
Whose touch redeems. 

The Prince of the Fiat, the Bud of the Rose, 
Is come ! is come ! 
A babe in a snowily shielded nest. 
Though He learn earth-sleep on a mother's 
breast. 
In His silence Divine He ineffably knows 
Creation's sum. 

Though His the firm Fiat that fashioned the 
world, 
The Mother pure 
Would clasp Him close in her quick alarm 
Lest the world itself be a force of harm ; 
Yet placid His smile, as a rose-leaf unfurled, 
And seraph-sure! 

[106] 



Adoring the Fiat which shaped and redeems, 
We humbly bow 
In penitent joy at Thy innocent feet, 
O Son of the Highest! Surpassingly sweet 
Thy coming — Thy love, in its sunlighted 
streams, 
Our Master, Thou! 



[107] 



ANGELS OF CHARITY 

A GROUP of splendid angels fled away 

With trailing wings and disappointed eyes 
From homes ablaze with glittering display, 

From stored-up gold and owners worldly- 
wise ; — 
And, in their flight across the city's space. 

Loving they lingered o'er each wretched den, 
Raining down tears in blessing, warm with 
grace, 

Where'er in poverty lay stricken men. 



Then, one, in quivering accents, voiced his 
grief : — 

" Are we not sent of God to all His sons ? 
Are they not brethren? Is there no relief 

The rich can give these poor, unhappy ones? 
Why will they so reject our tender plea, — 

Angels of Charity, in mercy sent 
To aid their souls ? Have they no eyes to see 

The love of Calvary, its great intent? 

God gave His Son; shall they not also give? 
He lends them gold ; — thus giving them the 
power 
To bless as He does, — that their souls may 
live. 
Breathing His love, expanding every hour. 



[108] 



All Heaven is love, reflected from His Throne! 

All Earth should gladden with its tender 
sheen ; 
Its silver sweetness she hath seen and known 

In Christ, the lowly, loving Nazarene ! " 

To whom another spirit, sad, replied; 

" They feel the snow, these men ! Its coming 
chill 
Is in their hearts ! And, thrusting us aside. 

They woo a Seraph-presence brighter still! 
The Christmas-angels are their dream, to-day, 

Singing of Peace." Majestically spake 
The leader of the throng: "Poor dreamers, 
they! 
And strange, their bitter, ill-inspired mis- 
take! 



Who knows not love knows naught of peace 
within ; 

The selfish heart can hear no Angels sing 
Of Heaven's good will. So we are sent to win 

That Charity, from whose fair roots up- 
spring 
All heavenly blossomings, like lilies sweet; 

All love of Jesus and all gifts of grace. 
Glory to God on high, and peace complete 

For all who fain would see Him face to face. 

[109] 



For those who scorn or set aside our plea 

The Yule of Christ will lose its blessed 
charm ! 
No bright archangel will they hear or see, 
No seraph, sent to keep them safe from 
harm; 
But, through their Christmas skies, our cry 
will ring. 
Our drooping pinions they will see again. 
Our conscience-whisper show its silent sting, 
The grieving Christ, in our dark eyes of 
pain ! " 



[110] 



LOVE'S MIRACLE 

Into my Christmas gloom a message came; 
A merry wish, a tiny card of cheer, 
Regal in lily-crowns uplifted clear, 

And cardinal-flowers like picturings of flame. 

Holly had been more fit. — Nay, were it blame 
Had it brought lichens, lone and silver-sere, 
From off the church-yard walls ? — But here 

Were thoughts, instead, as warm as light can 
frame 

Or summer showers. Love saith, " Though ice 
and snow 

Encrust the pond whereon thy lilies grow ; 
December's gale, life's darker wintry chill. 
Blow out thy scarlet blaze of marsh and rill; 

To August fires I wake its frozen gloom. 

And touch its icicles to lilied bloom ! " 



[111] 



THE ROYAL BABE 

O blue black sky alive with stars ! 

O patient expectation past! 
O earth, forget thy battle scars, — 

Thy King is come at last. 

A tiny hand, a rose leaf touch, 
A Babe, whose silence is Divine; 

Thou who hast sinned and suffered much, 
That hand is laid on thine. 

It crowns, it pardons. Grieve no more ! 

It lies divinely on thy heart. 
Arise and shine! His grace adore. 

Whose heritage thou art! 

He comes in love. His infant smile 
Its primal blossoming reveals; 

His Blessed Mother kneels, the while 
Its sweetness o'er her steals. 

O Bud of Heaven, unfold Thy rare, 
Ensanguined petals to the light! 

Bright Babe of Bethlehem, how fair 
Thou dawnest on our sight! 

The world is in Thy little grasp. 
Still lingering with delicious thrill; 

Oh, keep it in Thy tender clasp. 
And mould it to Thy will ! 

[112] 



SEA-DRIFT 



AMONG THE SEDGES 

Among the sedges, lo, the pulsing tide 

Comes throbbing up in rhythmic melodies; 
Their sturdiness of flint the surge defies, 

In serried lines they bristle, side by side. 

O comradeship of faith, by none denied! 
The amber glow of sunset softly lies 
In heaven-crowned blessing on their loyal- 
ties; 

While, far above, to measure high and wide 

The jasper walls, God's angel lifts a reed. 

Earth's frailest thing exalted evermore. 
For lowliness, 'mid water-floods of pain 

And doubt and sin, stands stronger for its need ; 
Its silent forces on their fury gain 

And closer fringe the Christ-illumined shore. 



[115] 



CONTROLLED OF GOD 

Up the soft, silent reaches of the sand 
The sea comes shining on, its silver line 
Encroaching tenderly, its mild design 

Love and love only. Princely, its demand — 

Insistent ever, — though at bay it stand. 
Awed by some spirit power occult and fine, 
Bound by the endless chain of the Divine. 

The passion of the world is in God's hand. 
Like shore and sea. He holds its limits good ! 
Nor will He force its unreceptive mood; 

Through thousand silvery ways of soft caress, 
Feeding its flame of love that else were dim, 

He sways it, curbs it, woos its wilfulness, 
To warm the earth and flash on, up to Him. 



[116] 



THE BREAKERS AT MONHEGAN 

They are swinging in their glory where the sea 

and mountain meet, 
They are tossing up their bursts of spray, the 

breakers wild and fleet; 
From out their green, translucent Vv'hirls they 

rush with sudden shock. 
And boil, in white exultance, round each jag of 

shattered rock. 

I share their exultation. I share their sense of 
power ! 

I drink in all their beauty, their strong, eternal 
dower ! 

Yet oh, ye mighty messengers of the Almighty 
One, 

The secret of your whirl is held in realms be- 
yond the sun. 

It fascinates our feebleness, it charms our quiv- 
ering sense; 

It quiets us, as though brought near to touch 
Omnipotence. 

So sweet, the creature's helplessness in the Cre- 
ator's arms 

That deeper grows its trust where force, love 
held, nor chides nor harms. 

O wondrous, sea-green surges, in our spirits' 

loftiest hour 
They yearn to understand and grasp the fulness 

of His power; 

[117] 



The power of grace that strengthens, the power 

of love that cheers, 
The power whose upHft shall endure throughout 

the endless years. 

Great waves of tenderness that come from high, 
celestial shores 

And break, like music, on the soul that rever- 
ently adores 

That Source of Might benignant, the Sacrificial 
Love 

Whose life is ever surging in golden seas, above. 

Ye baffle comprehension ! We faint and fail to 

mete 
Or fathom half your mystery of condescension 

sweet. 
Oh, pardon our beclouded souls, in earth-mists 

lying dim, 
The splendors of Thy might, O Lord, o'er- 

whelm the cherubim! 

Wherefore in silvery silence, like the sands 

upon the shore. 
We wait Thy mercy's tidal wave that swingeth 

evermore : 
Enfold us in Thy gracious clasp and smooth 

our roughened palms 
And softly show us all the deeps of Thine 

eternal calms ! 

[118] 



TRANQUILLITY 

A SEA-GULL, skimming high 
In blue air fine and thin, 

Cried, " Fly with us ! oh, fly ! " 
The Poet knew his kin; — 

And answered, " Cousin brave, 
I, too, can pierce the blue; 

But, calm, you sit the wave. 
Then — then! — I envy you." 



[119] 



THE VEILING MISTS 

In silence sweet they lie beneath a dawn 
Which Cometh not in plenitude of gold, 
The soft sea-marshes. For the fogs enfold 

Their grasses in a filmy grayness drawn 

Across their tender hues. This unmown lawn 
Of the sea-waters meek abides and cold, 
As in some virgin forest dank and old 

A doe lies calm beside her timid fawn. 

The wondrous greens on this wide waste un- 
stirred 

By aught save sea-wind or some wild sea-bird, 
Bear witness to the sun. The fogs, I wist, 

But save its scorching. Lo, its gentle call 
To lowly hearts declares, "Behind the mist 

Is radiance. In that knowledge lieth all." 



[120] 



THE CLASP OF HEAVEN 

When great, illumined cities fling their lights 
Down bay or darkling harbor, in its tide 
Low, tremulant reflections dance and hide, — 

Rare scarlet streamers, such as elfin sprites 

Weave, fanciful, in their mysterious rites ; — 
And when, overhead, the stars serene abide 
In silvery state, our poor earth-quivering 
pride 

And heaven's eternity one clasp unites. 

For Earth is full of trembling, daring deeds 
And hearts awakened to delicious thrills, 

Flashing and breaking. Their incessant needs 
Flame into prayer. Then, lo, the touch that 
stills. 

See, One in Heaven bends over! Mercies shine 

And melt our loveless wills to His Divine. 



[121] 



SEA-FOGS 

Softly the silent fogs come floating in, 
The river- valley fills with pearly gray; 
I fear a storm upon its giant way. 

The wiser rustic trusts in what has been; 
" Nay, leddie, nay ! " saith he ; 

"Nae storm will come to-day. It is the sea." 

So ghostly portents steal upon the soul; 
Dim pallid doubtings in their might arise. 
Until we lose our azure-gleaming skies. 

O timid soul, be glad! No clouds up-roll, 
But yonder lies the sea. 

Claim, recognize thy near Eternity! 



[122] 



THE SALT MARSHES 

The veiling mists drift infinitely sweet 
Across the marshes from the waiting sea: 
The near green melts to gray so tenderly 

Its pale gradations faint, in fair defeat, 

Where earth and sky in viewless purple meet. 
No line divides, no sharp, august decree 
Bars out from heaven ! — Can our lowlands 
be 

Thus honored ? — Yea, our lowliest ! — Thus 
most meet. 

O fair humility, thou shalt efface 

The great horizon-line 'twixt high and low 
Till earth is one with Heaven. Nay, even we 

Beneath the fine dissolving power of grace 
May lose our selfishness, and love and know 
These lowly places by the Eternal Sea. 



[123] 



MONHEGAN LIGHT 

Feom out the fog a melancholy horn 

Keeps up incessant crying, day and night; 

Doubt's misty moaning, solemn and forlorn, 
Giveth like warning of the piteous plight 

Wherein the soul, for lack of Faith, may lie — 

Who, with the doubter would or live or die? 

On the sharp Island crag a star is poised, 
The seaman's beacon light, revolving bright 

In beauteous silence. Faith is never noised 
Abroad — she needs no cry ! Upon her height 

Serene, majestic, her illumined dome 

Speaks for itself and guides the wanderer home. 

A steady light upon the darkling waves, 
Flashed on in streaming, undulating lines. 

Compasses untold distance. Faith, that saves 
Itself and others, looks to Heaven and shines, 

Unconscious of its seaward outer gleam ; — 

Sad soul, be thine, this royalty supreme! 



[124] 



SEA GRASSES 

Down soft, velvet slopings impearled with 

the dew, 
Toying with wealth and her fashionings new, 

Ever we mutter, 

" Braver are ye, 
O stiff, briny grasses that drink of the sea." 

Weary of softness, of gold and of gain. 
We catch a response from their station of 
pain: 

" Lowly and lonely. 

Blessed are we 
Who stand in our lot by the brink of the sea." 

" Sharp on your rocks ever beateth the foam ; 
Tender, the turf in the dooryards of home." 

" Yea, but no murm'ring 

Answereth thee ! 
Kingly, our calm by the infinite sea." 

"Inland, the blue-bird his song doth upraise." 
"Better to us, the surf-thunder of praise; 

Near the Eternal 

Chosen to be. 
Facing the tides of a limitless sea." 

"Bowed and brow-beaten, how may ye sustain 
Daily the shocks of the pitiless main? " 

" Nay, power hath pity ; 

Love-solaced, we! 
Odors rise sweet from the infinite sea." 

[125] 



"Silent uplifting ye surely must know, 
Bliss our best earth-love can never bestow." 

" Soul ! thou art lonely 

Even as we! 
Come into the swell of the infinite sea! 

Softly its voices thy spirit shall greet, 
Treasure of sea-bloom come up to thy feet; 

Strength shall betide thee. 

Sharp though it be. 
Thy priesthood of pain by the infinite sea." 



[126] 



SUN AND MIST 

A BURNING mist, in-lighted, veils the sea; 
The rising sun with plenitude of grace, 
The splendor of aerial, boundless space. 
Would glorify the flood's humility. 
Yet tarries he a moment. Can it be 
He hesitates, ere daring to displace 
The violet veil that shields her quivering face. 
Whose breathless pureness makes its mystery.'* 
That opaline, hushed purple, tranced and 
sweet, 
Joins earth and heaven; its mistiness, of 

earth. 
The ruby flame, of God. And Beauty's birth 
Is of these two, united. — Dazzled love 
On earth a veiled Divine alone can meet. 
But face to face communion flames above. 



[127] 



EASTER-TIDE 



VITA NUOVA 

I wandered sad within my garden-ground; 
" My one white rose is dying day by day." 
I whispered, mournfully, and turned away 
From its bare stalks ; the plant was love- 

encrowned. 
Long absence followed, yet the years crept 
round 
To my return. A magical display 
Of roses bade me welcome. Each brown 
spray 
Shone silver-white, each thorny stem had 

found 
Its destined crown. " O root and bloom," I 
cried, 
"Spirit and clay, transmutable ! How plain 
That life, once lived, must put on life 
again. 
The type, celestial! Thus shall it betide 
With us, when, sudden, from our earthly 

gloom 
The grand white flower of heaven shall flash 
and bloom." 



[131] 



THE MUSIC OF MARCH 

All melodies are under thy control, 

O mighty organ-month! Thy trumpet blare 
Athwart yon azure arch of thinnest air, 

Voices earth's tumult in its tempest roll, 

Intensities of passion, grief and dole. 
The tragedy of life, its last despair. 
Yet thou hast breathings soft as petals rare 

Of full-orbed roses — these reveal thy soul. 

Fluted in sweetness o'er each sun-warmed hour, 
We feel the uplift of thy music-voice ; 

Prophetic of the May and Love's full flower, 
Alive with promise, bidding Earth rejoice. 

Through storm and darkness cometh bud and 
bloom ; 

Yea, golden glories penetrate the tomb. 



[13S] 



SONG OF ST. MARY MAGDALEN 

I AM lingering in the pleasance 

Where the Master spake to me; 
And the sweetness of His presence 

Illumines every tree. 
The radiance of rosy hours, 

The dews that kiss the sward, 
Awake the re-arisen flowers. 
Flaming, odorous, 

In the garden of the Lord. 

Earth hath nothing any sweeter 

Than the memory of Him; 
Angel choirs have naught completer. 

Nor the blazing cherubim! 
Nay, They bend to me, divining 

Where His blessed feet have trod; 
Spirits, white as roses shining — 
Smiling softly — 

In the garden of our God. 

Since the Risen Lord hath called me 

Lower voices die away! 
That one " Mary " hath enthralled me. 

Love Eternal beareth sway. 
Word of love, thou failest never, 

Though in thorny ways I plod ; — 
Silvery fountain, gushing ever. 
Pure and holy. 

In the garden of our God. 

[ 133 ] 



Master ! — Now and through the ages 

Thine may our devotion be ! 
Altar-fires, while Satan rages, 

Keep our hearts aglow for Thee. 
Risen is the soul Thou greetest ! 

Thou bestowest sure reward; 

And our lilies blossom sweetest, — 

Softly cherished, — 

In Thy garden, Blessed Lord! 



[134] 



THE SKIES OF LENT 

O Lord of grace, we think of all 

The peace that might have been; 
We kneel abashed at many a shrine, 

Repenting many a sin. 
The bells of earth, in solemn wise. 

Throb o'er the meadows brown; 
Yet, over all, with loving eyes 

The tender blue looks down. 

The softest light of early spring. 

The budding of the trees 
Are sweet enough, yet heav'n is full 

Of sweeter things than these: 
The answer to our confidence. 

Our sorrow's sudden crown, 
We see it, shining! Love intense 

From out the blue looks down. 

Behind our misty veil of tears 

A sense of pardon gleams ; 
A Presence as of One beloved 

On our contrition beams ! 
O silvery hush of dawning light, 

O warmth of brooding wing! 
O Christ of God, like lilies white. 

Thy blessed Easter bring! 



[135] 



THE EASTER MOON 

O DIM gold moon ! O pallid, primrose moon, 
Pure as ethereal blossomings of spring 
That tempt the snowdrifts to late lingering! 
O silver showers ! O winds, that softly croon 
Among illumined cloudlets late and soon, 
Dispel the sky-drift, lest its shadow-wing 
Bedim that blessed disk in space a-swing, 
A golden paten, in her blue lagoon ! 
All hail! in Paschal joy participate! 

Moon of the feast ! Moon darkened by the 
cross. 
That saw the blood-drops of Gethsemane, 
Thou shinest for our peace. Our hearts await 
His pardoning word, who saves from endless 
loss. 
Whose is all power. Jesu ! We cry to Thee. 



[136] 



BELLS OF SORROW 

Drearily singing, wearily ringing, Lenten bells ! 

Sobbing and sighing 

For Him who is dying; 
Tolling our anguish in musical knells ; 
From tower and spire, as flashes of fire 

In ashes expire, 

Silent, ye die ! 

Bitterly weeping, patiently keeping vigil alone, 

Hearts of the lowly. 

Sorrows are holy. 
Bright in that Easter of glory unknown ! 
Lenten woe ending, life-tides are tending 

Heavenward, blending 

With billows of gold ! 



[137] 



LIFE'S FLOWERS 

In Life's fair garden, bitter, spirit-stirred, 
Its owner stands, despairing of defence. 
For Death is come. Ah, who shall drive him 
thence 
Or stop his scythe? Vain, each assailing word; 
Yet Life cries out, " I hate thee ! Who hath 
heard 
Thy voice without a shudder? Get thee 

hence !" 
Death answers, kingly, "Foes, in every sense. 
Yea, thou and I — And yet there is a third, 
A mighty Winged One, that f olloweth me 
To lift thy sweetest clusters lovingly 

And bear them where no snows may ever swirl 
Or frost bedim their grace of wax and pearl ; 
Transfigured, in the Lord's own light to dwell. 
Blazing amid His meads of asphodel." 



[138] 



PALMS OF EASTER 

The Easter morn is shining above the hills of 
gold, 
A sudden splendor glorifies the sea. 
Arise, thou weary weeper! One mighty to up- 
hold. 
The Master, He is coming unto thee. 

Thy heart is burning in thee, O disciple of to- 
day! 
Oh, the music of His penetrating voice ! — 
Rise, eager to adore Him, and cast thy sins 
away : 
Like Magdalen, behold Him and rejoice! 

Thy Lent is all behind thee; the Easter morn 
is here; 
See its whiteness flooding every dark ravine! 
Its softened light of pardon bids sorrow disap- 
pear ; 
In deeps of bliss ineffable, serene. 

Thy Saviour cometh, sinner! Be thy Easter 
welcome joy. 
Surpassing all that sinless angels know! 
Thy very deep of guilt is His, to conquer and 
destroy ; 
O pardoned soul, the tides of love o'erflow. 

[ 139 ] 



Your silver bells be ringing, O hearts with love 

aflame ! 

Your future be a glowing Easter psalm; 

For Paradise is chanting your great Redeemer's 

name; 

Behold its boughs of ever-waving palm! 



[140 



THE SOUL'S BLOSSOMING 

The royal iris waits its flash of bloom 

Blue as the sky, in loving belief and trust: 
We wait for ours, O Lord, in puzzled gloom — 
Because we must! 

Yet life evolves in its appointed wise ; 

The spirit hath its motion, swift or slow, 
Be its unfolding 'neath diviner skies 
Or here below. 

Guard its faint blooming in discouraged days; 

Its poor impatience tenderly repress, 
Till, lily-like, its full imperial blaze 
Thy grace confess. 

Bid it expand in patient sweetness here. 

Touching Earth's lowlands with its azure 
gleam 
Till bog and fen cry out in hearty cheer, 
"Love is supreme!" 

Then, having blest the world with humble grace. 

Give it Thine Easter blossoming of power ! 
Set Thou, All Merciful ! before Thy face 
Its perfect flower. 



[141] 



THE LIGHT OF THE LORD 

O shine and song of Easter morn! 

O touch of heaven low-bending! 
Our souls, like April buds new-born, 

Ope at thy sweet descending. 

O Risen Lord! Thy golden light 

Transfigures our contrition, 
And tears are but as dewdrops bright 

Where guilt hath found remission. 

Thy lilied peace is solace sweet, 

Thy smile, uplifting power; 
It glorifies Thy Mercy-Seat, 

Love's full seraphic flower! 

It quickens our reluctant souls; — 

O warmth of deep desire. 
Thy strength abides, Thy grace controls, 

New flame of spirit fire ! 

It is Thy Presence, Lord of All ! 

Like Magdalen, divining 
Thyself in this. Thy festival. 

May we adore its shining! 



[142] 



FROM SHADE TO SUN 

Behold, the Easter miracle is here. 

Again the darkness shines with silver ferns, 
The rich black earth in transmutation burns, 
Its emerald brightness shining soft and clear; 
Ablaze with daffodils, aglow, austere, 

With purple violets, whose love-grief yearns 
Through tenderest Lenten tears. Lo, sorrow 
turns 
To resurrection glory. — Soul, draw near! 
Receive the rising from the dead, to-day ! 

The sun, the warmth, the light of Heaven 
descend 
To make the life of earth; — O doubting 
one. 
Why crouch in shadow? to God's Yea say Nay.'* 
Oh, rather, sing and shine, where seraphs 
bend. 
Lauding the Risen Christ, thy life, thy 
sun. 



[143] 



IN ECCLESIA 

Ye snowy bells of Easter-day, 

Swing and ring! 
Wonder-bloom of Eastern dyes, 
Roses faint with fragrant sighs. 
Blaze of tiger-lilies blent 
With creamy buds, love-sentient. 

Salute your King! 
The Lord is in His garden-ground 

Swing and ring ! 

Ye lily-bells of Easter-day, 

Swing and ring! 
Come and sing in merry bands, 
Little children ! Clap your hands I 
Virgins pure and lily-bright, 
Hail in reverent delight 

Your Risen King. 
The Lord is in His garden-ground, 

Swing and ring! 

Ye glory-bells of Easter-day, 

Swing and ring! 
Saints, arise, your Lord adore, 
Crowned, exalted evermore! 
Swell the full, triumphant strain 
To the Lamb for sinners slain. 

Our sceptred King! 
He walketh in His garden-ground, 

Swing and ring! 

[14.4] 



Seraphic bells of Easter-day, 

Swing and ring! 
Priest and people, to His praise. 
Learn His sweet, forgiving ways ! 
Sheep of His protected fold. 
Come and lovingly behold 

Your Victor-King 
In Holy Church, His garden-ground! 

Swing and ring! 



[145] 



THE EASTER GLORY 

Lo, BILLOWS of white light go rolling on 

Along the lowlands of our weary world; — 
And these flash out, like a rich rose uncurled, 

One burst of bloom. The silent glory won 

From out Gethsemane for souls undone 

Floods every grave of sorrow, tear-impearled, 
Till earth seems Heaven. Then, onward, 
upward whirled, 

The same great glory sweeps from sun to sun. 

Through quivering infinitudes of space 

Blue as great sapphire seas, its mighty glow 
Diffuses power. O realm of Paradise ! 

Thy saints, enraptured, see the Victor face 
Of their arisen Lord! Thy plains o'erflow 
With liquid gold. The tides celestial rise! 



[146] 



BIRD FLIGHTS 



THE SOUL'S WINTER 

In Arctic din, the storms begin, 
Rare hopes, they twitter low; 

Open thy heart and let them in, — 
Birds of the snow! 

For Patience sings of coming Springs, 
In whistling gales of woe. 

To little Loves, on silver wings, — 
Birds of the snow. 



[149] 



THE HOLY HOURS 

The silver-winged hours come out of the blue, 

Their feathers all tipped with gold ; 
Twelve in a flock, every morning anew. 
And each has a message sweet and true 
Under its wing to hold. 

They who come earliest tell us of prayer; 

Rose-tinted, in pearly light. 
The beautiful band, as they earthward fare 
To show the All-Father's love and care. 

Unfolding like roses bright. 

Another cluster delight us at noon, 

Like carrier-pigeons fair; 
" Labor is worship ! Reward shineth soon ! 
The toiler is winning a glorious boon ; 

None other his crown shall wear!" 

Such is the word of their golden wings ; — 

Calm hours of labor's rest. 
We welcome you, hail you! For every one 

brings 
That greatest of holy, transcendent things, 

Repose, as of spirits blest! 

Most fair of all are the sunset hours; 

Pathetic, though wondrous bright! 
Sweet is the scent of the closing flowers. 
And solemn the hush of the twilight bowers 

In the fading of the light. 

[150] 



"The Angelus rings and the little ones sleep," 
So runneth their word of cheer; 

"O trust in the Lord! And the trust shall 
keep 

Thy soul unscathed. Cry to all who weep, 
The Master is standing near!" 

O silver-winged hours, ye help us to learn 

Life-lessons of mystical light! 
The twelve darker hours draw on, in their 

turn. 
But the starlight of God doth eternally burn, 

Nor fear we, by day or by night! 



[161] 



BLOOM AND SKY 

In April days against the sky 

A torrent of white blossoms shy, 
Flung with a dash of eager grace, 
Touches the blue with just a trace 

Of tremulous earth-witchery. 

Fair bush a-bloom ! I hear thee sigh. 
Why seek to clasp the blue on high? 

Yet heaven shines down with winsome face 
In April days. 

Thy transient blossom hour flits by: 
Soon, thou wilt give thine all and die 
Of love's o'erflowing. Blue of space! — 
The whitest souls' one blooming-place — 
Thy mysteries call — and hearts reply, 
In April days. 



[162] 



RENUNCIATION 



My heart sings of roses to-day; 

Passionate-glowing, 

Fragrance-bestowing, 
A mystical darkness of rubied display. 

Why should repining 

Shadow thy shining, 
Sun-orb of Joy, on our glittering way? 

O, Life, give us roses. 

Red roses, to-day ! 

Here they are, my joys elysian, 
Changed into a deeper vision; 
Wondrous, white, death-scented roses, 

Pallid in the sun-lit mist, — 
Full of Pain, like saddened faces, — 

Under skies of amethyst; 
Ye are saintlier sweet to-day. 
Fair red roses, away! away! 

II 

Poor, crushed blossoms of Yesterday, 

Withered away! 
Sad is the song of a vanished May; 
Though soft and sweet its tremulous tune 
As a fainting rose in the heat of noon. 
For the years go darkling day by day; 
For life is cold, its skies are gray. 
— Where are the roses I flung away? 

[163] 



Ill 

An angel cometh, softly singing 

Songs of mine. 
Celestial roses he is bringing; 

How they shine ! 
For I hear afar and faintly 

Whirr of wings, — 
A voice that speaketh 

Gracious things. 
" Here are roses ! Here are roses ! " 

Slow it saith ; 
" Crowns of roses, white and saintly, 

Heaven-kept for you. 
Boundless mercy all bestoweth; 
The golden garner overfloweth. 

And I bring you 

All the red ones — 
All the burning red ones, too." 



[154] 



THE SOUL'S WITHDRAWAL 

I FEED soft fluttering pigeons every morn; 
Scattering free and wide the golden grain 
That all may fare alike and none complain. 

Yet they evade me and my glittering corn 

Falls to the nearer. Timid and forlorn 
A few seem frightened and aloof remain, 
Afraid of me and of the love-sent rain, 

In famine, of their own refusal born. 

And we, ourselves, go hungry of Thy grace, 
O Blessed Lord, like these, from pure mis- 
trust. 
Increase our love ! In every crumb and crust 

Bid us behold the shining of Thy face. 

That we may eat and live, from peril free; 

Yea, draw us closer, — closer yet! — ^to Thee. 



[155] 



FROM OUT THE BLUE 

Hark! afar the blue is thrilled 
With a song surpassing sweet; 

Earthly dissonance is stilled 
While our weary spirits greet 

Cadences that swing and swell 

O'er the meads of asphodel. 

Lo, the calm, translucent blue 
Lies between us, friendly-wise. 

Crossed by many a golden clue 

Dropped by us from Paradise : — 

Hearken, ye on earth who dwell 

To us, amid the asphodel! 

We would tell you of our peace, 

Soft, eternal, lily-sweet; 
Of our bliss, whose deep increase 

Grows with lying at His feet, 
Who the wine-press trod below. 
Who doth all your anguish know. 

Deep, His eyes of deathless love. 
Rapt, our gaze of answering joy;- 

Lamb of God, enthroned above. 

Be Thy praise Thy saints' employ ! 

Golden anthems, surge and swell 

O'er the blaze of asphodel! 



[156] 



Ye of earth can never know 
Our expanding spirit-power! 

Aspiration's eager glow 

Brightening with each splendid hour; 

Deeper, sweeter, richer far 

Than the fires of sun or star. 

Lift your hearts and lift your eyes 
To the bending blue, to-day! 

Love descends from Paradise 
Cries of grieving die away. 

Fear no longer death or hell! 

View our crowns of asphodel ! " 



[157 



THE BLESSED END 

Aftee Loves's dawning 
Clouds hanging deep, 

Roses tear-laden, 

Mourners who weep. 

After our sunset's 

Passion-lit bars, 
Tremulous darkness. 

Quivering stars. 

After our Eden 

A fiery sword; 
After our grieving 

A pitying Lord. 



[168] 



THE VOICE OF HEAVEN 

O'er the weary, untilled meadows, 
O'er the fields of uncut grain. 

Through the dells and mossy shadows 
Comes a tone of love and pain; 

Like a breath from out the blue. 

Hear it calling, calling you. 

Yea, Incarnate Love is sighing — 
Soul, be swift and meek to hear; — 

In its tenderness undying 

Like an angel's pitying tear; — 

Flute-like, stealing from the blue. 

Hear it calling, calling you! 

Few the reapers, worn and weary, 

Singing in the twilight dim, 
" In the Christ-light, naught is dreary ; 

Sweet is labor — done for Him!" 
Through the quivering, crystal blue 
Hear Him calling, calling you! 

You He needs and you He seeketh ! 

Yours the heart-warmth He would win ; 
Yours to hasten when He speaketh! 

Yours to feel His peace within. 
Nearer bends the tender blue; 
He is calling, calling you. 



[159] 



Sweet among the dewy grasses 

Morning canticles begin; 
Leave the wearisome morasses ! 

Leave the sunken swamps of sin ! 
Seek His grace, who, through the blue 
Still is calling, calling you ! 

Light of Heaven, incessant drifting 
Down upon the golden grain, 

Brings a solemn, sweet up-lifting! 
— Whose the labor, his the gain. 

Christ repayeth. Seek the blue! 

Answer Him who calleth you! 



[160] 



BLOOM OF LILIES 

Out of glimmering watery deeps 
A stem in silence upward creeps; 
Sun-drawn, an eager bud upleaps 
And a silver crown is won! 

Out of gloom, poor Heart of mine. 
Creep up and live ! In whiteness shine ! 
The Bleeding Heart of One Divine 

Thy crown, thy warmth, thy sun! 



[161] 



A MOSS BASKET 

" The world is bleak, the boughs are bare, 
Snows are melting everywhere! 
The woods are dank and gray and cold: 
Go not forth till buds unfold." 

And yet I went. No warning voice 
Turns the heart's persistent choice! 
And all was gray: what bud would dare 
To open in that frosty air? 

Not e'en the willow, eager-eyed, 
Had flung his coat of mail aside, 
To sally forth, in garb of fur. 
In quest of Spring, to welcome her. 

" Though this be life," I said, " I know 
Search of love will melt its snow!" 
Then lo ! responsive, at my feet 
Shone emerald mosses, nestling sweet. 

Darlings of the forest gloam, 
Mine, to bear in triumph home! 
Window-baskets cannot hold 
Your rich significance of gold. 

Sweeter now, though sweet before, 
Swing and glitter ever more! 
To hearts aflame with love and prayer 
Spring-time cometh everywhere. 

[162] 



OCTOBER'S TOAST 

Burly October cried " Ha ! ha ! ha !" 

Shaking his sides in glee: 
" Come hither, come hither, ye sons of men ; 
Come from the valley and come from the 
glen, 

Come hither and feast with me. 

Let us be merry to-day, to-day. 

As honest hearts should be: 
Bonny young summer has done her best. 
Lavishing treasure with eager zest. 

Preparing the way for me. 

Winter is nearing apace, apace. 

His frosted breath I see. 
Come on, come hither, my boys and girls. 
Of the ruddy cheeks and the golden curls; 

Oh! you are the friends for me! 

A delicate haze from afar, afar, 

Broods over land and sea: 
Blossoming beauties my table adorn, 
Stately and gracious, with never a thorn ; 

Roses are not for me. 

Golden-rod, burning in princely amaze, 

Lighteth my banquet room; 
Gentians, the bluest will sing of the sky, 
Frost-flower, gayest when winter is nigh. 

Shine, in her spirited bloom. 

[163] 



Vintage is over and harvest is done, 

Gaiety floweth free; 
Winter we'll cheat and sorrow we'll cheat 
And life shall circle on twinkling feet; 

The world shall dine with me! 

A thought right good and a thought for 
you 

October's toast shall be; 
Oh, for the glory of life complete. 
Work that is finished and ripe and sweet, 

Fit for a King to see!" 



[164] 



CHIAROSCURO 

Ye velvet roses in the sun. 
Gray, pearly shadows, one by one, 
Creep underneath and underrun 
Your ruby blaze. 

O weary Earth ! O shadows thrown 
By very brightness ! Light alone, — 
The Sapphire Sea, the blazing Thron( 
Creates your grays. 



[165] 



A PREFERENCE 

I'm puzzled as to what is best; 
Shadows slant across my way 
And the blue is looking gray: 

Gentle robin, Robin Redbreast, 
Sing to me. 

It is very sad — I know it, — 
But I can not think, to-day; 
Bring me nothing deep, I pray ! 

Little poet, dainty poet. 
Sing to me. 

O musicians, literati. 

Give us songs to ease our care, 
Lightsome, gracious, debonair! 

Mighty masters, softly, softly 
Sing to me. 

Like wild roses, fresh and fearless, 
Still bedew our dusty ways. 
Till the dawn of happier days, 

Till the angels — blazing, tearless, - 
Sing to me. 



[166] 



IN DEWY GLADES 

"What is on the highlands, bonnie bride?" 

" Gold and pride ! 
Haughty-eyed, on they ride 

O'er the dusty road to the city towers, 
Dizzily cheating the God-given hours! 
Bitter, impenitent, driving in state — 

Pity them, pity them! — 
On to their fate." 

"What is on the lowlands?" "Toil and Woe." 

" Nay, not so ! — 
Whisper low! — Sweet, ah, no! — 

I' the lowly dell, oh, the birdlings sing. 
And Love condescendeth to furl his wing! 
Even the poet its beauty hath found, 

Lingering, princely, 
Elysian-crowned !" 



[167] 



A MIDSUMMER SCENE 

The Lord hath flung His brightness every- 
where : 

He dots the field with daisies ; through the 
dark 

He bids the stars shine out, lest some poor 
soul 

Should say, " He is not there ! He has for- 
gotten." 

Into our blackest moods He comes, — the 
heart 

Shall never lack His tender comforting. 

To-day, a fierce wind coursed the city streets ; 

No rain had come for weeks ; one mighty 
whirl 

Of dust swept through the ding}^ lanes and 
parched ; 

Poor, ragged children hung around the curb 

An-hungered and athirst. Across my path 

A coarse, hard woman strode, whose bitter 
face 

Suited the scene. I turned away in pain 

Which was half loathing. "O sin and 
misery," 

My spirit cried, " Is this the Lord's fair 
earth ? 

This, His dominion.?" Swift the answer came, 

A child's low, merry laugh! And looking 
back 

I saw the wretched woman take it up 

[168] 



Smooth its soft hair and gaze until her face 

Grew bright with mother-love. 

And while I stood abashed, still slow to 

believe, 
A flight of snowy pigeons fluttered down 
Into the dark, dead street. " Yea, sooth," 

I said, 
"So, in the Bible word, from out of the 

heavens 
Came once a dove. Earth is not hung in 

black. 
For love and purity are still her dower 
And God is with us, — even, at our doors." 



[169] 



THE UNSEEN LOVE 

A WRECK of fragile beauty 

Is all I greet to-day; 
Starry buds, their golden clusters 

Dim and drooping on the spray, 
Waxen bells and fiery blossoms 

Fainting, piteous, away. 

They perished in the coming 

Long e'er they reached my door; 

It is the same old story 

Which life hath told before ! — 

Yet the love behind the sending, 
I trust it more and more. 



[170] 



THE UNFADING LIGHT 

The fading things of earth are many, Lord! 

The sun of noon dies in the scarlet west; 

Imperial moons are fluctuant, at best, 
And music ends in its supremest chord. 

Art may be long; yet masterpieces fade, 
Fair statues crumble into marble dust. 
Naught lingers, save in our eternal trust 

That in Thee all abides — or sun, or shade. 

From Beauty's deeps they rise, these waning 
things — 
Seeds for Eternity — by Thy behest! 
Thou art their source, their centre and their 
rest! 
Through Thee they rise again with fire-flushed 
wings ! 

Yet long we more and more, as years swing by, 
For the Unfading Light, the endless plains. 
Whose calm all restlessness of thought re- 
strains, 

Outspread, one sheet of gold, eternally — 

That infinite, immutable domain. 

Where past and present mingle, in Thy hand ; 

While we, adoring, 'neath its blessing stand, 
That pierced Hand of Love, which bars out 
pain. 

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